A Journey of Discovery Book Two: Pledge
by Jedi-2B
Summary: Luke and Mara continue their up and down relationship in this sequel to A Journey of Discovery — Book One: Pendulum.
1. Chapter 1

**A Journey of Discovery — Book Two: Pledge**

**Summary:** Luke and Mara continue their up-and-down relationship in this sequel to _A Journey of Discovery — Book One: Pendulum._

**Disclaimer:** All these wonderful characters belong to George Lucas. No Imperial or Republic credits are being made off this story.

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to all my wonderful, 'anonymous,' betas (you know who you are) for their words of encouragement and invaluable suggestions.

And many thanks to everyone who posted reviews for the ending of _Pendulum_. I hope you enjoy part two of the trilogy. For those who haven't read part one, it can be found by clicking on my screen name, and following the link.

* * *

**Chapter One**

"Oh, that feels good! Don't stop!"

Han Solo leaned his head around to give his beloved a quick kiss, though his fingers continued massaging her tense shoulders. "I hope you repeat those sentiments later tonight, Your Worship," he quipped.

Leia Organa slumped a little lower in her straight-backed office chair and gave a tired sigh. "If I can stay awake that long."

"Are you saying my charms aren't enough to keep you awake? I'm wounded." Han paused long enough to cross his hands over his heart in mock indignation.

"I said, don't stop," Leia scolded, rolling her neck wearily.

"Yes, ma'am." Han hurried to resume his ministrations, frowning as he caught sight of a gold reflection shuffling through the outer office's doorway.

"Go away, Goldenrod," he directed sternly. "Can't you see Her Highnessness is on a rest break?"

"Han, leave him alone." Leia raised one hand, motioning to the protocol droid that it was safe to enter. "What is it, Threepio?"

"Forgive me for interrupting, Mistress Leia," the eternally jittery droid began, "but Mon Mothma wishes to make certain you've informed Master Luke of the victory celebration tomorrow evening."

Leia gave a low groan. "Not yet, but I'll track him down this afternoon."

"Very good, Mistress. I shall inform her immediately."

"So Luke doesn't know about the big shindig yet?" Han continued his role as masseur, grateful that Threepio had enough sense to exit quickly.

"No, he's been out on patrol since yesterday."

"If he's smart, he'll stay there," Han mumbled, wishing he could get out of attending the gala himself.

Instead of issuing the expected admonishment, Leia rose and stretched, turning to watch the passing Coruscant traffic outside her office window. "I can't say I disagree," she murmured. "These past two months since the Emperor's defeat have been hard on him. And I'm afraid he's not going to like what Mon Mothma has planned."

"These past months have been rough on you and him both," Han pointed out.

"Hmmm. I never realized resurrecting the Republic government would be so tiring."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," Han chided. When he didn't receive a reply, he walked over to the window also. "Leia... You and he need to work this out."

"There's nothing to work out," Leia countered, though her tone was unconvincing. "We've made it known we're siblings, and our father had been a Jedi. That should be enough."

"I'm not trying to take his side. But I see that look he gets whenever Vader's name is mentioned. One of these days he's going to blurt something out — something you may not like." He wrapped one arm around her slim shoulders. "I just think the two of you need to come to an agreement on how much more to reveal, and soon. There's bound to be someone in the galaxy who knows Vader's real name, besides the three of us."

"Four," Leia corrected. "Don't forget, Mara knows, too."

"Ah, yes. The mysterious Miss Jade." Han gave a not-very-subtle smirk. "Well, I can't see her getting chummy enough with anyone to be telling your little family secrets. How's she fitting in over at the Rogues, anyway?"

"Apparently she reports directly to the commander," Leia snorted, exaggeratedly emphasizing her brother's title, "and interacts as little as possible with everyone else."

"Gives a lot of private, late-night, supply reports, I'll wager," Han said with a snicker.

Leia laughed. "You always know a safe bet when you see one, don't you?" She circled back to her desk. "Well, General, one of us needs to get back to work."

"What do you mean, one of us? I'll have you know I took time out from a very busy schedule just to come over here and give out free massages to beautiful women."

"Too bad you have to hurry back and finish those repairs on the _Falcon_, and won't be able to accommodate any of those other women."

"Yeah, a real shame," Han drawled with a sly wink.

"When is that supply run you and Chewie volunteered for?"

"Day after tomorrow," he replied, already regretting that he couldn't push it up a day, to avoid the dreaded festivities.

"I miss you already," Leia cooed jokingly, as she pushed him toward the door.

"Give me these next two nights, and I'll do my best to supply you with some wonderful memories to tide you over," Han sent back.

"Out, now, or I'll be here working all night."

"Okay, okay." With one last parting kiss, Han was gone, and Leia surrendered herself to tackling the ever-present workload piled on her desk.

* * *

Later that same afternoon, Leia approached Rogue Squadron headquarters with some trepidation. Though she knew this was the most likely place to find her brother, having been informed his patrol had just landed a short time earlier, she also knew it was more than likely that she would not find him alone. Her eyes confirmed what her meager Force sense told her as she looked down into the hanger bay from the second-story walkway. Still in his orange flightsuit, Luke's blond head nodded in apparent agreement with whatever comment his companion had just made. And that companion, of course, was Mara Jade.

Leia didn't know quite what to make of Mara Jade. Luke maintained that she was a court dancer, and had attributed Mara's fighting prowess during the foursome's flight from the palace to surreptitious combat training she'd been forced to undergo after the Emperor had recognized the potential of her latent Force abilities. Under questioning by Mon Mothma, the redhead claimed it was that same potential which had made her a virtual prisoner of Palpatine. She contended that her overwhelming fear of exploitation by the Emperor had motivated her to seek out and aid Jedi Skywalker as a means of expediting her own escape from the despot's clutches.

Mara Jade was a loner, aloof and fiercely independent. It hadn't escaped both Han and Leia's notice that the only person she acknowledged as a friend, and, most likely, the only reason she hadn't taken off long ago, were one and the same – Luke.

Mara and Luke would spend hours together, investigating previously hidden chambers in the Imperial Palace, exploring the wonders of the immense city, and working side-by-side on his X-wing. Leia wondered what kind of strings Luke had to pull to allow Mara this much access to the military base.

And yet, Leia thought, she'd never really seen them do more than touch hands. They'd smile at each other – well, Luke would smile. Mara's closest facial expression could only be categorized as a smirk. They'd laugh quietly to themselves, sharing some joke or anecdote that only they were privy to. And they'd frequently engage in heated arguments that rivaled hers and Han's.

For the hundredth time, Leia wondered just what kind of relationship Luke actually had with the red-haired spitfire. Just after Palpatine's and Vader's deaths, Mara had strongly insinuated that she and Luke were engaged in a torrid sexual liaison, and Luke hadn't exactly denied it. But since then, they had both been very close-mouthed about what had gone on between them during Luke's incarceration and their subsequent escape. Despite Han and Lando's incessant ribbing, Luke would only acknowledge that Mara was his friend, nothing more. Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade were the most private people imaginable, and they seemed determined to remain that way.

One thing that Luke and Mara did openly discuss doing together, though, was practicing using the Force — levitating objects, performing acrobatic impossibilities, lightsaber sparring, trading knowledge of skills only they could perform. Leia would feel a twinge of jealousy at times. She couldn't really blame Luke. He had gone out of his way to persuade her to train in the ways of the Force, but there was always something else she needed to do first, some meeting to attend, some diplomatic function to see to. She wondered if she would ever find the time. Or if, subconsciously, she was afraid that utilizing the Force would be tantamount to acknowledging her relationship to Vader.

Leia shook off the thought. Now was not the time. Now, she had 'something else to do first.'

Luke looked up as Leia approached, having felt her presence as soon as she neared the hanger. "Hello, Leia," he greeted her warmly, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hello, Luke," Leia returned, then glanced at the redhead. "Mara."

"Your Highness," Mara responded, in her usual emotionless voice.

Leia had told Mara on numerous occasions she needn't address her so formally, but the woman seemed to do it on purpose. And not in the joking way Han still did.

"So, Leia, what are you doing down here?" Luke asked. "Finally decide to sign up to be a Rogue?"

Leia shook her head, laughing lightly. "There's going to be a victory gala tomorrow evening and I wanted to make sure you'll be there. Eighteen-hundred, The Capital Hotel ballroom, full dress uniform."

Luke started to object, but the look on Leia's face changed his mind.

"All right," he relented. "We'll be there."

"Luke, I'm afraid you don't understand," Leia said, certain that he understood perfectly. "It's by invitation only."

"And I'm not invited." Mara leaned back against the X-wing's landing strut, arms crossed.

"Well, to be frank, Mara,..." Leia began.

"An invitation means it can be declined," Luke interrupted, "so I decline to attend."

"You can't," Leia objected, momentarily caught off guard by the abrupt reversal of his previous consent. Her brother usually didn't hesitate to acquiesce to any request she made.

"Of course I can."

"Luke, you're one of the guests of honor. You have to be there."

Leia was preparing to have to argue further when Mara unexpectedly reached over and touched Luke's arm, addressing him softly. "Luke, don't be childish. Go. I don't mind. I wouldn't even want to be there, and have to rub elbows with those snobby politicians." She glanced over at the diminutive brunette. "No offense, Leia."

Luke sighed in resignation. "It's just – they should acknowledge your part in the Emperor's defeat, not shun you."

"That would only cause them to scrutinize—" Mara stopped suddenly, with the barest hint of a glance toward Leia. "I prefer to stay in the shadows."

Leia found herself doubting more and more Mara's explanation of her Imperial ties. But for now, she wasn't going to knock her good fortune of actually having the redhead on her side for once. She looked at her brother in hopeful expectation. Luke was in one of his rare temperamental moods. And, as odd as it was, it seemed the only person who could soothe his ruffled feathers was the person with the fieriest temper Leia had ever seen.

"Go," Mara whispered once more to the Jedi.

Luke finally nodded, giving the two women a half-hearted smile. "Never had a chance, did I?" he murmured.

Leia started to thank Mara for her intervention and understanding, but the mysterious woman only gave her a cool stare, then turned back to her work.

Leia gave Luke a goodbye peck on his cheek. "I'll see you later. And thanks, Luke."

"Sure," Luke replied soberly, before also turning to wipe some grime off his battle-worn fighter.

* * *

The next evening, Luke arrived at the celebration exactly at eighteen-hundred, not a moment sooner. His dress uniform was immaculate, with the creases pressed sharply, his rank insignia attached to his collar, and several medals gleaming on his chest. He gave polite nods as he moved through the crowd, where the political and social elite mingled with the heroes of the recent war. Giving Leia his customary kiss on the cheek and Han a handshake, Luke quietly took his seat at their table.

After dinner, the festivities continued with testimonials from representatives of several worlds liberated by The Alliance to Restore the Republic, or 'New Republic,' as the fledgling government was now referred to. Mon Mothma extolled the bravery of the military forces, including those who had given their lives in the successful struggle to remove Palpatine's dark influence from the galaxy.

Medals were distributed to Wedge, Lando, and crew, for destroying the second Death Star. Tributes were awarded Han, Leia, Chewbacca, and their strike team for bringing down the shield generator.

Mon Mothma returned to the podium, holding up a hand for silence. "Our last award of the evening goes to the man responsible for destroying our greatest enemies, Emperor Palpatine and his dark lord, Darth Vader."

Leia glanced at Luke, dreading to see the scowl she knew would fill his face. What she saw instead was even more chilling. His visage bore no semblance of expression – only a cold vacant stare.

"Gentlebeings, I present to you our very own Jedi Knight, Commander Luke Skywalker. Commander?" Mon Mothma waited while Luke rose to his feet and walked up onto the stage, completely ignoring the thunderous applause filling the room. He stood at perfect attention while the leader of the Rebellion pinned this latest accolade on the front of his uniform. Luke saluted her, Admiral Ackbar, and the other top brass assembled onstage, then exited down the steps with a crisp stride.

Luke took his seat, having not uttered a single word during the entire ceremony. Leia started to say something when Han laid a hand on her arm. "Leave him be," he whispered. "This is hard enough on him."

"That doesn't give him the right to be rude," she whispered back. Han shook his head, eliciting a glare from her. She wouldn't cause a scene now, but she'd sure give her brother a piece of her mind later.

An orchestra began playing just then, signaling the final portion of the evening. Han rose and offered his elbow to the still-fuming light of his life. When they returned to their seats after dancing, Luke was gone.

* * *

When the door announcer chimed at Mara Jade's small apartment, she knew who it was even before opening the door. Luke stood there, his very posture illuminating the dejection she could feel flowing from him.

"Celebration over already?"

"It is for me," he growled sullenly.

"Well, come in." She ushered him toward a worn couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room. "Would you like a drink?" she offered. "You look like you could use one."

Luke hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "No, thanks." He leaned his head back on the couch as Mara curled herself into a seat at the opposite end. "I'm afraid I'm not very good company," he muttered, staring at the ceiling. "I shouldn't have come here."

"You know you're always welcome," she assured him.

Luke rose and wandered to the window, staring out at the city's endless lights. "They gave me a medal, Mara," he bit out suddenly. "They gave me a damn medal for killing my own father." He reached up and yanked the decoration off his jacket, throwing it down in frustration.

Mara quickly crossed the room, rubbing his shoulders in understanding. "Luke..." she soothed.

Luke stiffened slightly at her touch, but didn't shrug her off. She moved around in front of him, gazing up into his sorrowful azure eyes.

"They think I killed Darth Vader, Mara, and they thanked me for it."

It was at that point that Mara Jade, former assassin and Emperor's Hand, did something she had never before done. She hugged another being in genuine sympathy. It seemed the most natural thing in the galaxy as they fell into each other's arms. Luke's strong shoulders heaved, racked by tearless sobs. Mara embraced him tightly as he buried his face in her silky hair.

They couldn't say how long they stood there, one drawing strength from the other. Eventually, Luke composed himself enough to draw back slightly. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

She took his hand, leading him back to the couch. Not letting go, she sat close to him, tucking her legs under her.

"Luke, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were hurting. I'm glad you chose to come here. Isn't that what best friends are for? That is... I mean... friends..."

Luke shook his head to interrupt her. "You were right the first time." His gaze bore into her sparkling emerald eyes. "You are my best friend, Mara."

"But... Leia, Han..."

Luke shifted slightly to his side, laying his head against the back of the couch. "Leia's my sister, and I love her dearly. But she's busy setting up the new government, and she has Han now. And Han,... well... he'll always be a good friend, but Chewie is his best friend, and now," Luke reflected softly, "now, he has Leia. Besides, even though he finally has to admit the Force exists, I think he still considers it a hokey religion."

Mara smiled at him in silence, understanding his need to just talk.

"And Wedge, and my other friends in the Rogues, they accept me, until something comes along to remind them I'm a Jedi. They don't say anything, but I can tell I make them uncomfortable when I use the Force." He shifted his gaze back to Mara's face. "But you, you're different. You take me at face value. You know what it feels like to have the Force flowing through you, to be different from everyone else." He absently clasped her hands in both of his, stroking her fingers as he talked. "You understand me, Mara. Sometimes, I think, better than I understand myself."

Mara stared at their joined hands as his strong fingers continued to caress hers. "I should be the one thanking you, Luke. You're the only person who trusts me, who knows my background and doesn't shun me because of it, who accepts me exactly the way I am. If it weren't for you... if I hadn't gotten to know you..." Mara took a deep breath. "I may have died defending the Emperor, or be on the run, a bitter, angry, fugitive. Who knows, I might even be seeking revenge on you for killing my master."

She laughed lightly. "Palpatine always cackled on about knowing the future. I don't think he foresaw us being together like this," she intertwined her fingers with his, "or he never would have pushed me into that cell with you."

"Or that whirlpool tub," Luke put in with a wink, causing them both to chuckle. He stroked the backs of her hands, then her palms. "You have soft hands," he murmured.

Mara jerked as his last words startled her. "Hey, I'm trying to have a meaningful conversation here, and you're getting fresh."

Luke dropped her hands like they were hot coals, his face reddening immediately. "Sorry."

Mara laughed out loud. "I was teasing," she said, playfully shaking his arm. "Or at least, I thought I was." She rose gracefully from the couch. "As you're the only one I've ever attempted it with, I must not be doing it right."

"Feel free to practice on me all you want," Luke said with a chuckle, his embarrassment dissipating.

"Now, I'm going to go change clothes," Mara announced.

"Change clothes?"

"Tonight's the night for celebrations, isn't it?" She leaned over and poked his nose with her fingertip. "I'm taking you out to celebrate."

"Huh?" He looked at her warily, not sure if she was still practicing 'teasing' or not.

"To celebrate our now-confirmed status as best friends," she went on, noting the confused look on his face. She waved toward her computer console. "You pick out some appropriately rowdy bar for us."

When Mara returned to the common room a few minutes later, Luke was once more looking out over the city. "So, what did you come up with?" she asked, leaning over to study the screen.

He turned and smiled. "There are several choices there. I was getting kinda hungry, so I pulled up some places that serve food, too."

"I thought you just came from a banquet."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't have much of an appetite then."

She graciously let his comment slide, and began reading names off the screen. Luke spent those moments letting his gaze wander over his 'best friend.' He regarded her snug pants, gossypium-cloth shirt, and trim nerf-hide jacket with more than just 'friendly' admiration. But after his 'soft hands' comment, he wasn't about to say anything.

Mara frowned, looking up at him. "Aren't some of these in the area we traveled through after escaping the palace?"

"I figured the places with the best garbage behind them would serve the best food inside," he explained jokingly.

Mara rolled her eyes.

"What? Aren't I allowed to practice teasing, too?"

Mara's smirk softened. "Anytime, Farmboy. But you'll never keep up with me." She reached over and clicked off the terminal. "Let's try the Ranat Roost. C'mon, we've got to go by your place first."

"My place? Why?"

Mara brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder. "As spiffy as you look tonight, I think you'd be a tad over-dressed for where we're headed."

Luke glanced down at himself. "Oh. Guess you're right."

They hailed a hovercab and traveled the few kilometers to the apartment he shared with Leia.

"You know," Mara commented as they entered, "I was rather surprised you and Leia moved in here together."

Luke shrugged. "Apartments are at a premium here."

Mara nodded in agreement.

"She's with Han most of the time, anyway," he continued, "or at meetings. And I have a bunk in the Rogue barracks, if she wants some privacy. Besides, it gives us a chance to catch up, when we do happen to be here at the same time."

"Catch up?"

"We compare notes on our lives growing up."

"Wouldn't think there'd be much comparison," Mara muttered, then caught herself. "Sorry, that was thoughtless."

"No," Luke assured her, laughing. "I've come to the conclusion that I'm glad I got the farm life. Can you imagine me training in ballroom dancing or diplomatic etiquette?" He chuckled to himself. "Though I'm sure Leia is thinking she needs to drill it into me, after tonight. Besides," he added with a wink, "she didn't get to race skyhoppers through canyons or shoot womprats."

"All right, Skywalker, you've got me convinced. Tatooine was paradise for you."

"You'll never hear me say that!"

She pushed him toward the bedroom. "Go change clothes. And _no_ Jedi outfits! Or military uniforms!"

"That doesn't leave much," Luke called, heading to his closet.

Mara sighed in mock exasperation. "Maybe I need to pick out something for you," she said, following him in. She gazed at his sparse assortment, spying a satiny dark blue shirt hiding in the back. Pulling it out, she eyed it suspiciously. "I've never seen you wear this."

Luke cleared his throat, grabbing the garment out of her hands and shoving it back where it came from. "It's one of Lando's cast-offs. Said it shrunk or something. I don't know. I've never worn it."

Mara stubbornly pulled it right back out. She narrowed her eyes and waved one hand slowly in front of his face. "You _want _to wear this shirt," she intoned solemnly.

He gave her an incredulous look, then burst out laughing.

_

* * *

_

They entered the Ranat Roost tapcafe a short time later. A haze of smoke drifted across the room, and lively music filled the air from a trio of jizz wailers in a far corner. The assorted patrons, most in various stages of intoxication, paid little attention to the newcomers.

As they spied an empty table and made their way across the crowded space to claim it, Luke thought he recognized several of the customers as being from his military base. Suddenly, his hand instinctively flew toward his lightsaber as he was shoved from behind.

"Hey, buddy, watch it!" a raspy voice came from below them. Spinning around, Luke's eyes traveled down to an inebriated Kloperian, now sitting haplessly on the floor.

"Could ya help a fella up?" the short, gray alien said, raising both bloodshot eyes and a limp tentacle toward Luke.

"Looks like you've had enough for the evening, friend," Luke advised him, relaxing and pulling the being to a shaky upright position. As the Kloperian moved back toward the bar, Luke noticed Mara tucking her tiny blaster back into its sleeve holster.

"C'mon, Skywalker, it's time to start our own celebrating." They reached the small round table, and Mara shoved aside the empty containers from its last occupants. Luke activated the holo-menu, and they each punched in their selections.

As the holomenu disappeared, two young girls, barely out of their teens, approached the table.

"Commander? Commander Skywalker?" they exclaimed, giggling in unison.

"Yes?" Luke answered politely, trying to avert his eyes from their overly revealing attire. 'I told you it was him,' he heard the blonde whisper to the brunette. The girls eyed Mara suspiciously, then turned back to the object of their fawning.

"Hmmm, we work in Data Files, over at Liberty Base, and we've seen you come through," the blonde spoke up.

"That's nice," Luke answered noncommittally.

"We, uh, just wanted to introduce ourselves," the brunette continued. "I'm Daxia."

"And I'm Tirzah," her companion added.

"Nice to meet you," Luke murmured. He glanced at Mara out of the corner of his eye. (Would you like me to introduce you to them?) he sent silently.

(Don't you dare!) she shot back.

"If you ever need any files retrieved," Tirzah was saying, brazenly laying one hand on Luke's shoulder, "or anything else...," she batted her long lashes at him, "don't hesitate to look us up."

"We'd be glad to help you out in any way," Daxia purred.

"Uh, thanks," Luke muttered, trying to think of some way to get rid of them.

"Here are our names and home comm numbers, if you need anything after hours," Daxia continued, handing him a pair of small data chits. "Anything at all." Luke took the chits wordlessly, dropping them in his shirt pocket. With exaggerated wiggles, the pair moved back to a group of young people gathered near the band.

Mara rolled her eyes, stifling her laughter. "Get propositioned often, do you?"

Luke gave her a glare, then amusement began trickling into his expression. "Why? Jealous?"

"Of those two? Please!"

Luke was saved from having to retort by the appearance of the waiter droid bringing their order of staga ribs and lomin-ales. They continued their casual banter throughout their meal, each relishing the comfortable feeling of just being together.

All evening, Mara had been tapping her feet to the tunes being belted out by the tapcafe's resident band. "You know, Skywalker, people are dancing over there."

Luke glanced over at the small, crowded dance floor. "Hmm-mmm."

"The music's not bad. Easy to dance to," Mara continued. _Can the man not take a hint?_

"I suppose. If you like that kind of thing." Luke leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink, his face a mask of boredom.

Mara narrowed her eyes impatiently, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "It's a great way to release pent-up tension."

"Guess so. Don't feel any tension right now, myself." Luke swore he heard a low growl coming from his dinner companion. Perhaps it was time to give in. He stood up, extending one hand. "Mara, would you like to dance with me?"

"Someday, Skywalker, you're going to go too far," Mara grumbled as she joined him. They staked out a small spot on the dance floor, near the back wall of the room. A bit awkwardly at first, they held each other and began swaying to the music. Gradually, they relaxed more and more into each other, with Mara laying her head against Luke's shoulder.

"Well, well, well. Whadda we got here?"

Pausing in their dancing, Luke rotated around to the source of the harsh, gravely voice. Standing behind them, flanked by two cohorts, was a tall, rough-looking humanoid. Hands on hips, the man looked down on the couple with a look of contempt filling his dirty, unshaven face.

"So the Jedi's found himself a little Imp whore," the man sneered, eliciting a guttural snicker from one of his sidekicks. "One of Palpatine's own playthings, I hear."

Luke's eyes flashed in anger as he stepped in front of Mara, facing their antagonist.

Their tormentor arrogantly hooked his thumbs in his belt and puffed out his chest. "Hey, doll," he taunted as he eyed Mara lecherously. "Why don't ya try a real man, 'stead of this wimpy little spoon-bender?"

Mara scowled and attempted to confront the ruffian, but Luke blocked her way. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and effortlessly pinned him against the wall, feet dangling off the floor. Mara knew Luke was using the Force – the man was easily double his weight.

"You will apologize to the lady," Luke demanded.

"What lady?" the man bit out, eyes darting about in spite of his precarious position. "I don't see no lady."

"Why you miserable..." Luke hesitated, feeling Mara's presence growing more distant, and looked over his shoulder in time to see a flash of red hair exiting through the front entrance. Giving the man one last threatening look, he dropped him to the floor and followed her out into the night.

* * *

"Don't you _ever_ do that again." Mara didn't turn as Luke approached her from behind.

"What...?"

Mara jerked around, knocking off the hand that he had barely laid on her shoulder. "Look, Skywalker, I can take care of myself. I don't need some son of a Sith playing protector for me."

"I didn't mean it that way," he protested, flinching at her choice of an insult.

Mara started to retort, then stopped and swirled away from him once more. "I could feel you touch the dark side, Luke," she whispered. He began to object, but she continued, "You scare me sometimes. I've witnessed your father treat underlings just like you treated that bully." She took a deep breath. "What's next? You going to start choking anyone who offends one of us?"

"Mara..." He paused, not knowing what to say.

"I'm going home now." She began to move down the walkway.

"I could walk you home," Luke said hurriedly, instantly knowing it was exactly the wrong thing to say.

She stopped and gave him a cold stare. "You just don't get it, do you? I've slain a hundred beings across the galaxy. I think I can make it back to my apartment safely. I don't need you, Skywalker. Right now, I don't even want you near me." With that, Mara stalked off into the darkness. Luke watched her retreating figure, then dejectedly turned in the direction of his own dwelling.

* * *

As Luke entered his apartment some time later, he could feel Leia in her bedroom, sound asleep. He would talk to her in the morning, and attempt to make amends for his behavior at the awards ceremony. He needed to do the same with Mon Mothma. And then there was Mara. How could he ever begin to make things right with her? Luke wasn't even fully convinced his actions weren't in some way justified. And that was the most frightening part of the whole matter. Had he already lost his perspective of how a Jedi should act? It seemed like Mara, who had been taught to despise Jedi, saw the light a lot more clearly than he did.

How could a guy who had no experience with women get into so much trouble with three of them on the same night? With a heavy sigh, Luke began to undress. After tossing his jacket over a chair, he started unbuttoning the blue shirt. He should have worn one of his black shirts, he thought. Dress like a Jedi; act like a Jedi. He shook his head in disapproval at his own excuses. Being Jedi had nothing to do with what kind of clothes you wore; it was who you were inside.

As Luke threw the shirt in the general direction of the laundry receptacle, he heard a faint 'plink, plink.' Bending over, he picked up the two address chits he'd acquired in the tapcafe. He had felt a twinge of jealously from Mara when those two girls flirted with him, he was sure of it. Which brought up a whole other unsettling issue. Just being near her stirred up feelings in him he wasn't sure he was ready to face. Feelings he didn't think were appropriate for 'best friends' — longings and desires he couldn't get out of his head.

Over the last two months, Mara had claimed a place in Luke's thoughts on a constant basis. He couldn't wait to see her pouting face when he came in from patrols. Her blatant honesty was like a breath of fresh air against the military regulations, political manipulating, and hero fawning he constantly found himself surrounded by.

And in all that time, their relationship remained purely platonic. He hadn't lost his desire for her, certainly. He'd just put it on the back heater. They both needed time to cement their friendship first. But lately, he was having more and more trouble not resurrecting the feelings he'd first had for Mara more than two months ago. Had he now lost his chance at a loving relationship?

Luke started to toss the chits into the waste recycler, then paused. Maybe if he did have some experience, he wouldn't be so unsure of himself. No doubt, either one of these girls would be thrilled to come to his aid. Maybe he should... No! He threw the tempting objects into the chute. No. He didn't want his first time to be with some hero groupie he didn't even know. Not his first time, or any time. There was only one person he wanted — the one who didn't want to be near him.

Settling himself into a cross-legged position, he prepared to enter into deep meditation. Perhaps he could meditate away the yearning ache in his body. He wasn't so sure about the ache in his heart.

* * *

Mara Jade punched in the code to unlock her door without even thinking about it. The two-kilometer walk from the Ranat Roost to her apartment was undoubtedly the loneliest she had ever taken. Entering her common room, she glanced around at the meager décor, remembering the refined elegance of her former suite in the Imperial Palace. But that life was over, and there was no merit in dwelling on the past. Especially a past as regrettable as hers.

So what was keeping her on Coruscant? Some compulsion to psycho-analyze upstart Jedi?

As Mara crossed the room, a glint of gold on the floor caught her eye. She bent to retrieve Luke's discarded award, and enclosed it in her fist. Even the cold metal conveyed to her his pain and despair.

For as long as she could remember she had been surrounded by the dark side, so its oppressive chill was no stranger to her. She had seen sparks of it in Luke a few times over the past few months, when a stubborn drivebolt refused to come loose, or a persistent holoreporter intruded on his privacy. But he had always quickly smothered the spark, never allowing it to flame to life. But the anger she had felt in him this evening had frightened her. He seemed to have abandoned any effort at self-control. In those few moments, she saw in him not the son, but the father.

Mara stood in front of her transparisteel window, in the same spot she had shared with Luke mere hours ago, not even conscious of the endless stream of lights moving past outside. She clutched the medal to her breastbone, ignoring the prick of the clasp against her palm. Maybe she needed to get away for awhile, travel back out into the galaxy that she knew so well.

Exhaling a breath, Mara tried to formulate a plan. After the Alliance's bombing of the palace, there had been nothing left of her belongings. She was paid a small salary as Rogue Squadron's Supply Distribution Coordinator — enough to rent this apartment. But enough to buy a ship, never. Perhaps she could scrape together sufficient funds for passage on a transport. But where would she go? As far away from Luke Skywalker as her credits would take her?

Mara shut her eyes, refusing to allow any tears to fall. She knew in her heart, she could never run far enough to escape Luke's presence. The connection she felt with him was so much like the link she had with the Emperor, and yet it was exactly the opposite. Both connections had been thrust upon her, heedless of any feelings or needs of her own. With Palpatine, she never considered the possibility that she had a choice. With Luke, she hadn't, until now, thought about wanting any other choice.

Luke had been the perfect gentleman ever since that episode in the underground, when they had come to the brink of making love. At first she was grateful, but lately, twinges of disappointment flitted through her when they parted with only a handshake. And then, tonight, she was the one who wouldn't even offer him a hand.

Time. She needed time to reflect. Time to review in her heart just what her true feelings for Luke Skywalker were.


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to Calli1, Mara look-a-like, and Amanda for reviewing chapter one.**** Sorry for the delay in updating; my main computer died, so I'm winging this.**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery – Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter 2**

By mid morning the next day, Luke found himself approaching the offices of the Alliance leadership. He hadn't slept well, which came as no surprise, and had finally put himself into a Jedi trance. He and Leia talked at some length that morning, until Leia had to dash off to some committee meeting or another. Leia had done her best to allay his self-doubts concerning the dark side. But, as always, Luke got the feeling his sister was in deep denial that either of them could possibly have anything in common with their father.

It was shortly after Leia left that Luke received a message stating Mon Mothma wished to see him as soon as possible. Leia had assured him that the Chief of State had seemed unperturbed the evening before as far as he was concerned, so this unexpected summons was puzzling.

_------_

"There is no need to try to explain last night," the New Republic leader began, waving off Luke's attempts at an apology as he took a seat in her office. "I have read your report concerning the events of your imprisonment by the Empire, and your statement of how both the Emperor and Darth Vader perished. It isn't that I don't believe you." Mon Mothma rose and stared out her large window before continuing. "Commander, the galaxy has struggled under the tyranny of the Emperor since before you were born. You must understand that you have become a symbol of hope for all beings, a sign that the Jedi Knighthood is being resurrected. If it is revealed that you were powerless to defeat Palpatine, faith in the Jedi, and in our leadership, would be shaken."

Mon Mothma circled around closer to Luke. "Can you honestly be certain, if you hadn't been present that day in the throne room, that Darth Vader would have still slain his master? That it was not your influence that turned Lord Vader back to the light?"

Luke shook his head in resignation. "No, I ..., I can't be certain."

"So you see, Commander, from a certain point of view, you are responsible for the downfall of Emperor Palpatine."

_Certain point of view.__ Certain point of view. Does my whole life revolve around a certain point of view?_ Luke kept his thoughts to himself as Mon Mothma continued.

"That Lord Vader sacrificed his own life to destroy Palpatine is regrettable, but do you actually believe that he would have ever been accepted into the Alliance's good graces? Luke ..." Mon Mothma laid a hand on his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "The populace would have demanded he be put on trial for the atrocities he committed, no matter how much he repented in the end. I don't believe he would have been allowed to live."

"But his memory—" Luke began.

"His memory, his legacy, will live on in you, Commander." Mon Mothma gave him a cryptic smile.

Luke's eyes widened in surprise. _Does she know? Or is she merely referring to the legacy of the Jedi?_

"Now, Commander, I did not call you in here to discuss last evening." Mon Mothma returned to her seat behind her desk. "We have been soliciting the planet Lorrd, in the Kanz Sector, to join the Alliance for some time now. They have mineral resources unique to their planet that would be valuable in our effort to rebuild. Lorrd's government, however, has been rather reluctant to commit to an accord with us. For some reason, they have trouble believing our sincerity." Mon Mothma gave Luke another enigmatic smile. "I'm sure at this point you're wondering what all this has to do with you."

"It had crossed my mind."

"The Lorrdians have always had a great deal of respect for the Jedi order. They have agreed to meet with a Jedi, and only a Jedi." The leader steepled her fingers together. "Hence, we are sending you to Lorrd to conduct negotiations for their inclusion into the New Republic."

A mixture of confusion and denial crossed Luke's face. "Madame President, begging your pardon, but I'm not a diplomat."

"In this case, Commander, you will be. Many of the Jedi of the Old Republic served as ambassadors for the Senate and for individual planets."

Mon Mothma's tone of voice didn't seem to leave any room for discussion. Luke pursed his lips in thought. "Who will be accompanying me on this mission? Leia?"

"No, Commander. You will be going alone. We will brief you this afternoon on everything you need to know."

Mon Mothma rose in an obvious dismissal of Luke, but he hesitated.

"Madame President, I request to be allowed to bring someone with me on this mission."

"Commander, I have stated that the Lorrdians will only meet with a Jedi. To bring anyone else with you could only be detrimental to the negotiations."

"Not if I bring another Jedi," Luke countered.

"Another Jedi?" Even Mon Mothma's cool demeanor was shaken. "I was unaware there were any other Jedi." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Of whom are you speaking?"

"Mara Jade," Luke answered simply.

"The dancer from the Emperor's court? The one who escaped with you? Commander, please." Her expression turned to one of disbelief. "You expect me to accept that Mara Jade is all of a sudden a Jedi?"

Luke stood his ground. "She is extremely strong in the Force, and she has become my apprentice. I believe this would be a beneficial learning experience for her."

"I see." Mon Mothma studied him a few moments. "Very well, Commander, she will be allowed to accompany you. Do you wish her to attend your mission briefing?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I can fill her in on the way. We will need a larger ship than my X-wing, though."

"Of course. I shall have my aide requisition a shuttle." Mon Mothma rose and walked toward the door, evidently dismissing Luke before he had a chance to make any more requests. "Commander," she added as he exited, "I expect you to return with a signed pact."

"I shall do my very best."

As the door shut behind him, Luke's shoulders slumped despondently. Was he crazy? Had he completely lost all common sense? Five minutes ago he felt as if something, or someone, was urging him to insist on Mara's inclusion in this mission. It was almost like a prodding from the Force. Now this feeling completely abandoned him. If Mara ever found out he was going around calling her his apprentice ... well, he'd better start making out a will.

* * *

That afternoon, Mara Jade received an official communiqué from the office of Mon Mothma. It stated that her presence was required on a diplomatic mission, departure scheduled for oh-six-hundred the next morning, Alliance hanger bay number sixteen. At first, Mara thought there must be some mistake. It was her name at the top of the orders, but she was not a member of their Alliance. How in blazes could they send her on a mission? 

Well, she would just refuse. That's all there was to it.

Later that evening, Mara was once more staring at the datapad containing the mission orders as she sat alone at her small dining table, munching on a simple dinner of voncrab sticks. No, they couldn't just order her around, and yet ... she had wanted to get away from Coruscant. Away from ... him. She had obstinately avoided Luke all day at squadron headquarters, which turned out to be surprisingly easy. He had been tied up in classified meetings half the day, and out on patrol the other half. During the one instance that she had to obtain his signature on a requisition, he made a showy pretext of being preoccupied and gave her only a grunted acknowledgement.

So, perhaps this mission was an opportunity she should not pass up. She would get passage off the planet, at the Alliance's expense. She certainly had more than adequate training to complete any type of diplomatic assignment. If this so-called mission were not to her liking, she would simply disappear after reaching her destination.

Mara curled one leg underneath her and let her gaze wander around her small apartment. She sure wouldn't miss this place if she never returned. Maybe the new Supply Coordinator would move in here. He or she could struggle with the stubborn room-darkening controls of the common room's single window — the same window near which Luke had broken down in despair only the night before. He or she could grumble in annoyance at the numerous lumps in the tattered old couch — the same couch where Luke had declared her to be his best friend.

Mara bit her lip sharply, ignoring the twinge of pain. She refused to capitulate to sentimentality. She'd leave everything here behind — even the dejarik set that she and Luke had rescued from his former site of confinement in the palace. The new tenant would probably buy more furniture to occupy the open space behind the couch — the space she'd purposely left vacant to give her and Luke more room to practice lightsaber drills... No! She _would not_ dwell on all the hours they'd spent in this forlorn little apartment, oblivious to how shabby it was because they focused only on each other. She would not think about the fact that Luke had been the only guest to ever enter her quarters — the only person to make her laugh, the only man she ever daydreamed about, the only ...

Abruptly pushing her chair back from the table, the former Imperial assassin scraped her half-eaten dinner into the disposal unit. Why did he have to go and lose his temper last night? Why did she berate him so harshly? Why did she even suggest they go out at all, knowing how fragile his psyche had been? They could have stayed right here — sitting on that despicable couch, looking out that murky window, reveling in each other's warm presence and unadulterated friendship. Mara swiped at a speck of moisture in the corner of her eye. She would leave tomorrow, and she wouldn't look back. Looking back could only bring heartache, and the Emperor's Hand would not succumb to anything as trivial as heartache.

Mara Jade collapsed onto her shabby couch, and wept.

* * *

Shortly before her departure time the next morning, Mara entered the sprawling building that housed bays numbered fifteen through twenty. She recognized it as headquarters for Gray Squadron, a B-wing group. Luke had taken her on an extensive tour of all the fighter group hangers, but this was the first time she had ventured anywhere by herself, save for the Rogues' base of operations. Apparently the young corporal posted at the entrance had been informed of her expected arrival, as she was waved in immediately. 

Mara found her way to Bay Sixteen, carrying one small satchel. She figured she would buy anything else she needed on arrival at her destination, charging it to the Alliance, of course. As she walked among the battle-scarred fighters, she stopped short. There was no mistaking the presence she felt. She found him halfway up a service ladder, doing pre-flight checks on a modified B-wing.

"Finally felt like chucking the old X-wing, Skywalker?" Mara kept her voice carefully neutral, resolutely pushing aside her turbulent feelings for her estranged friend — feelings that had kept her awake all night.

"Temporarily," he said solemnly, glancing down at her bag. She decided to save him the trouble of asking.

"I was supposed to go on some kind of mysterious mission for Mon Mothma." Mara looked around the bay. "But I don't see any shuttle. And I thought sure my contact would be here to meet me."

Luke descended to the hanger's duracrete floor, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "He's here."

Mara scanned the area once more. "Where?"

"Here," came the answer, even softer this time.

Mara's eyes widened in disbelieving shock. "You! You're my contact! Don't tell me you're going on this mission, too?"

There was no answer.

"Skywalker ..."

"You told me not to tell you."

Mara's eyes blazed at his insolence.

"I was ordered to go." Luke raised his voice a notch. "Wasn't my idea."

Mara fumed at this turn of events. Her resolve never to return to Coruscant had crumbled sometime during the middle of the night. But she had been anticipating a few weeks apart, giving them both time to reassess just where their relationship stood.

"Now I suppose you're going to tell me we have to fly in this cramped bucket of bolts." She waved at the B-wing in disgust.

"You shouldn't ask things if you don't want to hear the answer." Luke met Mara's glare with one of his own, then softened slightly. "We'll be departing in a few minutes. You can find a flightsuit in the locker room," he said, nodding toward a nearby hallway. He held out one hand to take her satchel. She shoved the bag into his hand, then stalked off in search of a flightsuit. Luke shook his head in resignation. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Mara soon returned and studied the forlorn look on Luke's face. He didn't seem to be looking forward to this assignment any more than she did.

Luke started to reach his hand out, as if to touch her arm, then seemed to have second thoughts and pulled it back. Mara was both relieved and disappointed in the same instant.

"Mara," he began, "I'm sorry. For the other night. I ..."

Mara held up a hand to silence him. Luke's dramatic, earnest, apologies always grated on her nerves. Especially when she knew deep down that she ought to be the one making amends. "Skywalker, look, ..." She expelled a quick breath. "I said my piece on the subject, and I don't feel like rehashing it here. Can we just get going?"

Luke nodded silently, handing her a helmet as she climbed up the ladder and plopped heavily into the front gunner's seat. He clambered into the rear and requested clearance for departure. He'd find a way to bring up the subject again. It was a long way to Lorrd and back.

-------

"So, do I get to know where we're going? Or is it some state secret?" Mara didn't try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. This was the first either of them had spoken since they'd left Coruscant three hours earlier, and the tension in Mara had been building by the nanosecond.

"Lorrd," came the soft voice from the rear of the double cockpit.

"What! That's a three-day trip! They expect me to spend three days cooped up with ..." Mara caught herself, changing gears midsentence. "... in this crate?"

"No, say it. Three days with me."

Mara blew out a breath, taking some measure of satisfaction in his sullen tone of voice. "So what is our mission, really? Rescue some Rebel prisoner?"

She heard a low chuckle. "And put him where? In the storage compartment? Or will he ride back on your lap?"

His sardonic reply was not putting her in a better mood. "Well, what then? Espionage? Blow up some warlord's secret hideout?"

A small datapad was tossed over her shoulder onto her lap.

"What's this?"

"Mission directives."

Mara began scanning the document. "Membership agreement ..., mineral rights ..., bargaining concessions ... This is all political mumbo-jumbo!"

"Yep."

Mara tried to turn around in the confines of her seat, but couldn't see past the high headrest. "They're sending _us_? You and me? On a diplomatic mission?"

"Yep."

"Is that all you can say?"

"Isn't much else to say. Told you it wasn't my idea."

Mara shook her head in frustration, already tired of the heavy flight helmet. "How about — why us? Why not your sister, or some other treaty hacker? And how come we don't have a decent shuttle? You're too much of a pushover, you know that?"

Luke let her vent all she wanted. He felt exactly the same way. "I don't know 'why us.' Something about the Lorrdians will only talk with ... Force-strong individuals." He wasn't about to say the word Jedi. That would be enough of an issue when they reached their destination. "And supposedly there weren't any shuttles available. I guess because I go on long trips in my X-wing, no one thought it would be a problem."

"No one but me."

"I'll teach you how to put yourself in a hibernation trance."

"Oh, goody. I can hardly wait." Mara lapsed back into seething silence, and Luke didn't feel inclined to interrupt her.

-------

Several hours later, Mara was trying to go to sleep, but all she could hear were the sounds of Luke shifting every which way in his stiff vinyl seat.

"You're doing a lot of squirming back there," she called over her shoulder.

"So write me up on report — squirming while on duty."

"Don't you have some Force technique for ignoring discomfort?"

"Apparently not an effective enough one."

Mara brooded awhile longer, gaining some gratification that this mission was bothering the usually stoic Jedi Knight as much as it was her. She turned her head, listening. He seemed to be reciting something.

"What are you mumbling about?"

"Jedi Code."

_Code?__ They have a code?_ "Does it help?"

"Not so far."

"Say it louder. I want to hear this."

Luke sighed, then began again. "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity—"

"No emotion? No passion?" Mara interrupted, her voice incredulous. "What kind of passion are we talking about here? Romantic passion?"

"I ... uh ..."

"Do you even know?" she taunted. "Jedi aren't expected to be celibate, are they?" She was glad Luke couldn't see the sudden frown that crossed her face.

Luke forced a laugh. "Of course not. I'm in trouble if that's what it means." He resisted the urge to feel under his helmet to see if his ears were growing pointed, like the mythical sprite in the children's story who was caught telling lies.

"Do you get to add lines?" Mara was saying.

"Huh?"

"There are no cramped muscles, there is relaxation. There are no sore behinds, there is a comfy pilot's couch ..."

Luke chuckled in spite of himself, then joined in. "There is no hunger, there are delicious space rations ..."

They amused themselves for the next hour, making up silly lines, each trying to outdo the other. Luke pushed the thought that what they were doing was blasphemous to the back of his mind. She was talking to him again. They were having fun. Maybe it hadn't been a bad idea to bring her along, after all.

* * *

By the middle of the second day of their journey, both Luke and Mara were tired, cramped, and cranky. Using the crude waste receptacles only while the other was sleeping proved awkward, and Luke's attempts at teaching Mara some Jedi relaxation techniques turned out to be anything but relaxing.

It was Mara's discovery that the piloting controls at her station had been disabled that served to fuel her growing indignation, however.

"It's just that only pilots who are rated for B-wings are allowed to fly them," Luke wearily tried to explain. "It's nothing personal against you."

"Oh, sure," Mara spat sarcastically. "I suppose if Her Highness, your sister, had been the one coming along, she'd be sitting here helpless like me?"

"You're not helpless," Luke muttered. That was the last adjective he'd ever use to describe Mara Jade. "Look, you've got access to the most powerful weapons on any Alliance fighter. If they didn't trust you, those would have been switched off, too."

"Can I swivel them around to shoot at the seat behind me?" Mara said with a smirk. Though he did have a point — the weapons array was intriguingly impressive. With any luck, she'd have a chance to use them. Hmmmm ... "If we happen upon some asteroids, can I take some target practice?" she asked hopefully.

"Well ..." Luke bit his bottom lip, contemplating her request. He wouldn't mind some target practice himself. It sure would break the monotony. "As a matter of fact, we'll be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes for a course change, because ..." he paused dramatically, "there's an asteroid field we have to navigate around."

Mara couldn't believe it — Mr. 'Never Break the Rules' was going to loosen up and let them have some fun. Her fingers were already itching to rip loose and shoot something.

Luke watched the countdown display for realspace conversion, and the star lines shrank into pinpricks of light. He grinned to himself as the predicted chunks of rock floated lazily in the distance.

"No proton torpedoes," he cautioned, imagining Ackbar skinning his hide if they came back with all the torpedoes missing.

"Spoilsport," Mara snipped, quickly deploying the S-foils into combat position. Her ion cannons were already blasting away as soon as Luke maneuvered within firing range. The pair spent nearly two hours trying out every kind of armament the B-wing carried — laser cannons, ion cannons, targeting lasers, auto blasters — everything except the valuable torpedoes. The complex gyro-stabilization system creaked with the effort of keeping pace with the sudden maneuvers its Force-strong wielders were putting it through.

Luke smiled as an exuberant "Yahoo!" sounded from the front of the cockpit. This was a great stress reliever, no doubt about it. It wasn't that Luke didn't have any misgivings concerning their impromptu assault exercises; he justified them by deciding it could be crucial in the future to know how the ship would respond with a Jedi at the controls. Somehow, targeting asteroids was much more satisfying to him now than the exhilaration he could still remember feeling when he blasted his first TIE fighter a lifetime ago, from the belly turret of the _Millennium Falcon._

But, all good things must come to an end, and it wouldn't look good for him to be late arriving at Lorrd, either.

"Okay, hotshot." Luke smiled to himself at the opportunity to call someone else by the nickname he was so often labeled with. "We need to leave some for the next bored wayfarers coming this way."

Mara let out a relaxed sigh. She felt a hundred percent better now, and couldn't imagine anything happening in the next few hours to ruin her good mood.

Luke folded the airfoils back into cruising position, keyed in the pre-programmed jump coordinates, and pushed the hyperdrive lever forward. "All righty, next stop—" The rest of his statement, however, was cut off by a dull groan in the engine beneath them.

"What was that!" Mara snapped, her 'good mood' evaporating in an instant.

"I'm not sure," Luke replied honestly, though he had a familiar 'really bad feeling' about what could be wrong.

"We're not moving, Skywalker."

"How observant you are," Luke retorted dryly, checking all the diagnostic controls and wishing, not for the first time, that B-wings were configured to hold astromechs. He held his breath as he optimistically tried the hyperdrive lever again. Only silence filled the motionless ship.

"Blast it!" Luke bit out, fiddling with the controls once more.

"Surely you can come up with better cursing than that, Farmboy."

"Be my guest." He resisted the urge to just reach out and bang something, which was Han's usual first approach to ship repair.

"Well?" Mara huffed. "You can fix it, can't you?"

"Sure, if we can land. I'm not familiar enough with B-wings to even attempt a hyperdrive repair EV," Luke admitted.

Mara made an exaggerated gesture of pointing out through the canopy. "Why look, I think I spot a shipyard just off the port bow."

"You're not helping matters," Luke muttered, frustration building inside him.

"You're the one that got us into this mess," Mara shot back.

"Me! I didn't ask for this over-rated spinning top. I'd much rather be in my X-wing, with only Artoo for company. In fact, I'd already be on Lorrd if I were in my own ship."

"And I'd rather be on a luxury yacht, bound for some resort planet, alone. I didn't ask to come along on this Sith-forsaken trip."

Luke voice softened. "I know you didn't." He began accessing the ship's navigational charts. This would be so much easier with Artoo.

"So?" Mara continued impatiently. "Where are we? What's closest?"

"We're at the edge of the Crestar Nebula. The charts show a couple of planets on the other side of the cluster, both amended with an 'unexplored' status warning." Luke checked another grid. "The closest one will take us three days at sub-light." He grimaced to himself. "In fact, the data on the whole nebula looks pretty sketchy."

"Can't you raise Coruscant on the comm? Let them come out here and rescue our behinds."

"I've tried; all I get is static. We must be getting interference from the nebula." Luke adjusted the comm control. "I'll try to get through to Lorrd."

The crackling static was only slightly less intrusive. " ... orrd Spaceport ... thority ..." came the broken reply.

Luke again reached down to modulate the frequency. "This is Commander Luke Skywalker of the New Republic. Please advise Regent Ke'lor that I will be detained due to a ship malfunction." Luke paused, trying to discern the answering crackle.

"I repeat, this is Commander Luke Skywalker of the New Republic. Please advise Regent Ke'lor I will be delayed ..." Luke hesitated, calculating in his head, "seven to ten days due to ship malfunction. I send my apologies. Do you copy?"

"... 'kywalker. ... orrd ... out."

"Skywalker, out." He switched off the noisy comm. "Well, sounds like they got the message. At least I think so."

"Why don't we just move away from the nebula, and call again?" Mara griped. _Did she have to make all the decisions?_

"Which will put us in the opposite direction of where we know there's a planet," Luke pointed out. Even at sub-light speed, he'd rather be going somewhere, than just sitting dead in space waiting. "Look, if we can land, I can fix the hyperdrive, and we'll be on our way." And no one would rib him about needing 'rescuing.'

"Fine, have it your way, Commander," she drawled, dragging out his title in the most derogatory manner she could manage. "Just point us in the right direction, and let me fume in peace."

"Gladly," Luke grumbled to himself. Though the idea of Mara Jade doing anything 'peacefully' seemed as remote as getting heat stroke on Hoth.

--------

Eighteen hours and several more inevitable arguments later, Luke slowed the engine to an abrupt halt.

"Now what?" Mara shot over her shoulder. "We haven't gone nearly far enough to reach your 'unexplored' planet."

"I know, but ..." Luke paused, brow furrowed in concentration. "I have a feeling ... I think there's something closer." He adjusted the long-range scanner.

"So now we're going to wander around based on some elusive 'Skywalker' feeling." Mara gave a loud derisive snort. "I hope you realize how lucky you are I can't reach back far enough to—"

"I found something," he interrupted. "Scanners show a small planetary mass at heading two-one-nine-point-seven."

"And it wasn't on the charts?" Mara scowled, wishing more navigational equipment had been installed on her own console.

"No," Luke replied, an offended tone coloring his voice. "When they said this nebula was unexplored, they weren't kidding."

Luke adjusted the ship's heading, and two sets of eyes strained into the inky blackness of space until a tiny green orb came into view. A solitary sun showed they were approaching the dayside of the planet.

As they flew in close to the largest land mass several hours later, Luke and Mara could make out dense forests and snow-capped mountains.

"Over there!" Mara shouted excitedly as they descended. "I see buildings! Head that way."

"What do you think I'm doing!" Luke growled back, already noting life form readings on his scanners. As he piloted the ship in search of a landing spot, a heavy windstorm began buffeting the tiny craft.

"Hold it steady!" Mara began shouting orders. "Get below the storm! Land this crate!"

Luke gripped the control stick tightly in a vain effort to combat the increasingly strong gusts, muttering to himself about 'front seat drivers.' He was glad she hadn't been along the first time he landed on Dagobah.

"What?" Mara shouted above the roar of the wind, which could be heard even in their sealed cockpit.

"I said, B-wings aren't designed for maneuverability in atmosphere."

"Just land, Farmboy!"

"Where? There's nothing but forest below us!" Luke's patience had run out long ago, along with his hopes of landing safely.

"Then go back up!" Mara couldn't believe this was happening. What in the galaxy possessed her to accept this mission? She should've turned around and ran as soon as she saw who the pilot was. "Get above the storm!"

"I thought you wanted near the village!" _Could women never make up their minds?_ "I don't read any other concentration of life forms for hundreds of kilometers."

The words were hardly out of Luke's mouth when a loud snap sounded just below his seat. Almost immediately the primary wing began swinging erratically at the mercy of the relentless wind.

Luke didn't even try to make out the string of undecipherable curses coming from the gunner's seat. He no longer had a choice — one way or another, they were going down.

They both spotted the tiny clearing at the same time — an oasis of rocky, uneven ground near the base of a tree-covered mountainside. Luke frantically deliberated how he could set the craft down without snapping off any wings. While B-wings were configured to land on flat surfaces with a skilled pilot at the helm, even Threepio would be appalled at the odds of doing so with a damaged stabilizer.

Luckily the S-foil wings were still folded in, their normal position for non-combat space flight. But that would be little consolation if the whole primary airfoil slammed into the ground. The long flat wing had to be held horizontal to the ground, somehow ... Luke bit his lip, concentrating. He had lifted his X-wing more than once. This was just one wing. One large, heavy wing slightly longer than his own beloved ship. He closed his eyes, summoning the welcome power of the Force. He could do this. He had to.

"What are you doing back there, sleeping!" Mara's urgent screeching broke through his reverie as the hillside loomed closer. "Do something!"

"Join with me." Luke's calm voice was in stark contrast to hers.

"What!" The Jedi had lost it. No doubt about it, he'd gone off the deep end. "Join you in what, the afterlife?"

"The Force, Mara. Help me hold up the wing with the Force."

Mara stared out the cockpit window as the recalcitrant wing swung into view, then just as quickly vanished below.

"You're crazy, Skywalker. It's too big."

"Size matters not," he murmured, as the wing once more rose in a position perpendicular to the occupants of the cockpit. This time, however, it stayed in its upswing position. Mara could feel the powerful surging of the Force through Luke as he held the enormous wing in place, while at the same time lowering the ship closer to the ground.

Without further hesitation, Mara joined her Force sense with Luke's in his desperate task. Instantly she felt the flash of his gratitude as together they held up the heavy wing. The fighter lowered slowly on its repulsors, finally settling to the ground with a dull thud.

Mara sat motionless in her seat, releasing the pent-up breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. They'd done it! Admittedly, Luke's contribution had far surpassed hers, but could he have held the wing long enough by himself? Both his weariness and his relief were palpable through the Force.

Abruptly, Mara yanked off her helmet and unsnapped her harness. Then, turning around in the cramped cockpit, she knelt on her seat and peered around the high headrest. Luke was removing his own helmet. Letting it fall to his lap, he raised tired eyes and gave her a weak smile. Sweat-drenched hair clung to his forehead.

Pushing damp strands of hair out of her own eyes, Mara inhaled his Force presence and let it fill her. Craving his physical touch, she pulled off a glove and extended her right hand around the backrest.

Luke exhaled slowly, watching as Mara's palm began reaching out toward him. Ever since they first met, deep in an Imperial detention cell, they'd shared a bond that neither of them could explain. A bond that intensified with physical contact. Leaning forward, Luke removed his own flight gloves and raised his left hand to meet hers. As their fingers intertwined, a familiar warmth and comfort flowed between them, soothing their spirits in ways mere words never could. They remained that way for what seemed an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes.

Almost as if by mutual consent, they pulled apart at the same time. Luke turned aside to check a monitor.

"Atmosphere's breathable."

Mara nodded, then popped open the plasteel canopy. Soon they were both on the ground, assessing what repairs were needed. And, as always, they were soon engaged in a rapidly escalating argument.

"What do you know about fixing stabilizers, or hyperdrives, for that matter?" Mara groused. "Artoo fixes everything you manage to break."

"I know plenty. I've worked on lots of ships. I used to spend hours overhauling my skyhopper back home, and I've helped repair the Falcon enough times."

Luke was weary, frustrated, and nearly out of patience with Mara's harping at him. It seemed she was going out of her way to antagonize him, almost like she was afraid to get too close to him emotionally.

"Tinkering with those flying scrap piles doesn't count," she retaliated. "And it sure doesn't mean you can fix a B-wing."

"And just how much do you know about B-wings, huh? You know how to recalibrate a power flux connector on a Slayn and Korpil hyperdrive motivator?"

Mara returned his taunts with a glare that would have caused a rancor to cower. "I've been trained to repair a dozen different hyperdrives. I could figure this one out," she growled.

"When? Before we turn thirty?" His tolerance had completely dissipated by now. "Look, I can fix _anything_, and _I'm going to fix this_!" Luke gestured wildly toward the grounded craft, ignoring her strangled choke of contempt at his egotistical boasting. "You hike to that village we spotted and try to get a replacement part for this broken stabilizer rod." He shoved the snapped rod into her hand. "I'll stay here and repair the hyperdrive. And I'll work on rigging a substitution for the rod, just in case you can't manage your assignment."

Mara was livid. "_My assignment_! Who put you in charge!"

"The Alliance, that's who. This is _my_ mission and _my_ ship, and I'm the commander here."

"It is not _your_ ship!" Mara seethed.

"It's signed out to me, which makes me responsible for it."

"And a fine job you're doing of that, aren't you?" Mara retorted, poking him in the chest.

Luke shook his head and whirled back to the open repair hatch. "Just get going, will ya? The longer we stand here arguing, the longer it's gonna take to get off this rock."

"Fine. I'm leaving. At least I'll have peace and quiet for a few days," Mara shot back, as she reached into a storage compartment for a survival pack.

"Me, too," Luke answered, but the fire had gone out of his voice.

He watched as Mara slipped the pack onto her back and checked her blaster. She glanced up at him. "Guess I'm ready." Luke nodded, but didn't answer. "So I'll be out of your hair for awhile," she added, trying to get some kind of response out of him. What she got wasn't quite what she was expecting.

Luke took a step toward her, wiping his hands on a rag. "Take care, Mara. We don't know a thing about this planet, and I wouldn't want anything ... Well, just be careful."

"I will," she replied cautiously. His mood had certainly changed gears in a hurry. "I should be back in about a week."

"I'll be here," he murmured.

"I'll check in from the village, to let you know whether or not I can find the right part." For some reason, Mara found her feet rooted to the ground, strangely reluctant to leave him. "You have my comlink frequency?"

"I've got it," Luke acknowledged. He glanced back at his repairs. "I should get back to work, I suppose."

"Yeah. See ya," Mara said quietly as she turned to leave, pulling her eyes away from his profile, his upper body hidden within the repair shaft. "You take care, too," she practically whispered.

Without turning around, Luke raised one hand in farewell, the only indication that he had heard her.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heaps of thanks to Barbossa'sApples, Calli1, Amanda, Mara look-a-like, randomidiot, and boogak for all your comments. Yes, Luke and Mara do tend to have spats like a married couple. Interspersed with kiss-and-makeup moments, of course. **

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Three**

Mixed emotions swirling through her, Mara plodded along the rocky ground for hours. While she and Luke had not spent every day together since their escape from the Emperor's palace two months ago, this would be the first time they'd be apart for as long as a week. She had gotten used to having him around. His warm presence was such a welcome change from Palpatine's cold darkness. What in the galaxy had made her even consider fleeing Coruscant ― stealing away without so much as saying goodbye to him. She could imagine the hurt look on his face if she had cut and run while on this mission. No matter how much they argued or complained or taunted, there was an undeniable connection between them ― a connection of friendship and loyalty that neither of them would willingly sever.

She almost reached out through the Force to him, just for reassurance that he was still there, but stopped. She had finally acquired a semblance of independence, and she wasn't about to let it appear that she needed him. Mara Jade ― ex-assassin, ex-Emperor's Hand ― needed no one.

_Yes, you do,_ a small voice said. _You need him. And he needs you._

Mara automatically started to refute what her conscience was telling her, then paused. Okay, maybe that last part was true. He did need her. He needed someone to keep him on the right path ― the pathway of light. Luke had demonstrated that unquestioningly at the Ranat Roost. And who better to guide him than she, who had ample experience with dark siders, and who could feel the dark side building inside him before he ever opened his mouth or raised a hand. It would be a challenge and a heavy responsibility, but she could do it. Mara smiled to herself as she resumed her trek. In fact, it could easily be a lifelong commitment.

――――

Luke kept at his task until nearly dark, his hands tugging at the recalcitrant stabilizer components, but his mind many kilometers away. What in the galaxy had possessed him to snap at her that way? Frustration at this blasted ship? Embarrassment that he hadn't magically been able to fix everything immediately? Annoyance that they'd been sent on this unwanted mission, anyway?

Leaning back, Luke tossed his hydrospanner into the toolkit. He'd finished the repairs to the hyperdrive several hours ago, but he had no doubts about his inability to restore the gyro-stabilizer to working condition without that rod. He could only hope Mara would somehow find a replacement. Wiping his brow on his sleeve, he sighed and looked up at the sky. Clouds obscured any star sightings, and thunder rumbled in the far distance. The wind picked up as he walked around the perimeter of the area, stretching his stiff muscles. A storm was coming, and soon.

After packing up his tools and supplies, Luke walked back to the ship. Just as he climbed into the cockpit, raindrops were starting to fall, splattering loudly against the canopy. He settled into the pilot's chair, munching on a ration bar. As they had all day, his thoughts centered on Mara. Luke hoped she had time to erect a shelter before the storm hit. He regretted sending her out after that rod. He should have gone himself; then she could be here in the dry, albeit cramped, cockpit. It wasn't like he was making any headway on completing all the repairs. Even his attempts at boosting the comm signal proved fruitless.

Luke chewed slowly on the ration bar, not even noticing how tasteless it was. They could have both gone to the village. At least they'd be together. _Face it, Skywalker, you miss her already. _Against his better judgment, Luke reached out with the Force. Mara's emotions came through loud and clear ― tired, wet, hungry, annoyed.

(Mara?) he sent tentatively. (Are you all right?)

(I've been better,) came her curt reply. It still amazed her that they could converse through the Force like this. Sure, Palpatine talked to her from across the galaxy. But that was Palpatine. Luke wasn't nearly that powerful. Was he?

(Why haven't you put up your shelter yet?)

(What are you, my mother?)

Luke rolled his eyes, letting his breath out through pursed lips. (I was just concerned about you.)

(Well, don't be. Just worry about those ship repairs. I'll be fine.)

(If you say so.) Luke paused. ('night, Mara.)

It took Mara a moment to reply. (Goodnight, Luke.) She quickly cut their connection. Blast him, she could never stay angry with him.

Mara held her glow rod out in front of her. The light was fading rapidly, and the rain was beginning to fall harder. She really needed to stop for the night. So why was she still trudging forward? Because the sooner she got to the village, the sooner she could return to the ship. No, not the ship. To him.

_All right, Jade, this is getting you nowhere. Another half hour, then you stop._

――――

Luke felt Mara cut their link. All day he had tried to keep thoughts of her out of his mind, concentrating instead on his repair work. But now he found he could think of nothing else.

What kind of relationship did he and Mara have, really? Yes, they were friends. Best friends, if she hadn't revoked that status after the debacle at the tapcafe. But, deep down, he knew in his heart that he wanted to be more than just friends. Memories of the closeness they'd shared before his father's death kept surfacing. Though neither of them ever ventured to bring up those experiences, he was sure she'd been as attracted to him then as he was to her. If her feelings had changed, why hadn't she already left Coruscant, while she was still free of suspicion? True, he'd covered for her alias as a former dancer. Heck, he'd helped her concoct a good portion of the story she'd told Mon Mothma. Not the most Jedi-like thing to do, and it sure wouldn't bode well with the New Republic if it were discovered he was harboring the identity of an Imperial assassin.

He had really expected Mara to flee the first chance she got. But she had stayed. Stayed with him, it could only be said, as she interacted very little with anyone else. So why had their relationship regressed ― if you could call what they had a 'relationship'? Was he to blame? And why had he felt as though the Force had called him to bring Mara along on this mission?

Too many questions; too few answers. Luke closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the firm headrest. Perhaps a good night's rest would bring him some of those answers. He drifted off to sleep, lulled by the raindrops pattering overhead.

―――――

Mara stumbled along in the dark, finding it harder and harder to keep her footing on the sloping hillsides. A bolt of lightening lit up her surroundings, showing that the forest was getting denser. By her calculations, it was nearly dawn. She hadn't stopped for the night like she should have; instead, she had pushed herself past the point of exhaustion. And so it was that she didn't feel her danger sense go off until she stumbled over a vine and found herself tumbling down a steep embankment.

Mara sent out a desperate plea through the Force before blackness overtook her ― (Luke! Help me!)

―――――

Luke shifted uncomfortably in the barely padded pilot's seat, drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

(Luke! Help me!)

He jolted upright, banging his head against the canopy, the cry for aid resonating in his mind. Had he been dreaming?

(Mara?) he sent out. (Mara! Are you all right!)

No answer. He stretched out through the Force, feeling for her presence, but got nothing. Luke fumbled for his comlink, turning on the cockpit lighting so he could make sure it was turned to their agreed-upon frequency.

"Mara! Mara! Can you hear me!" He knew he was shouting, but he didn't care. "Mara! Answer me!"

Luke popped the canopy, stood, and was immediately assaulted by a cold brisk wind. (Mara, answer me!) he sent once more. Logic told him she could be sleeping, but his gut told him that wasn't the case. Besides, he was familiar with how her soothing presence felt to him when she slept.

He forced back his growing panic, relaxed, and let the Force fill him. Its power throbbed through him like waves crashing upon a shore. He stretched out again, blocking out the other life in the countryside ― the animals, the birds, the microscopic organisms.

Finally, there it was. Just a tendril of the Force, but Luke clung to it like a Corellian limpet clings to a starship. It was his lifeline to her. She was alive, but unconscious.

Jumping out of the cockpit in one fluid motion, Luke grabbed a survival pack and secured the ship. Still holding on to that sliver of the Force from Mara, he began to run. He wasn't sure how far she could have gotten, or even if she had stopped for the night. She was stubborn enough to try to keep going without sleep. Which meant she could be that much farther away from him.

Luke increased his pace. He had a feeling he had no time to spare.

-----------

Luke had been running for most of the day, oblivious to fatigue. He was glad it was no longer raining. Not that it would have slowed him down, but the thought of Mara lying out in the pouring rain... They'd come too far, endured too much together, for him to lose her now.

He pushed onward, feeling Mara's barely perceptible presence slowly growing nearer. He called out to her several times, but apparently she was still unconscious.

Luke finally stopped shortly before dusk to get his bearings. She was close now, very close. He walked forward perhaps ten meters and came to the edge of a steep drop-off. The essence of Mara's presence was so strong here it was nearly tangible ― exhaustion, surprise, panic. Pain. Peering down through the gloom, he could just make out a spot of dull orange. _No!_

He found her in a crumpled heap, lying in a shallow impression half filled with rainwater. Luke gently lifted her head, pushing her dirty, tangled hair away from her still face. He checked for broken bones, and was relieved to find none, though her left ankle looked swollen.

"C'mon, Mara. Talk to me."

Her skin felt frozen; her lips were blue. Though her flightsuit was water-repellant, it hadn't been sealed at the collar and wrists, allowing her clothes underneath to be thoroughly soaked. Ice crystals were forming in the folds of the coarse outer material and in the strands of her wet hair.

Luke hadn't even noticed the freezing temperature when he was running. Now he realized the danger ― Mara was almost frozen to death.

"Come back to me, Mara," he whispered in desperation as he clutched her against his body. Picking her up, he surveyed his surroundings. The ground was saturated all around them, and the wind was growing stronger, stinging his face sharply. The tiny one-man shelter in his pack wouldn't offer nearly enough protection from the bitter cold. He had to get her somewhere dry and warm.

Luke closed his eyes and did his best to relax. The Force would guide him. It had to.

He slowly opened his eyes, and turned to the southwest. _That way,_ the Force seemed to whisper.

Snatching up Mara's fallen pack, he set off at a brisk pace. He had walked only a few minutes when something made him stop. _Here_, came the Force's soothing call. Holding a glow rod out, he shined it all around. A small mammal darted through a growth of underbrush, and Luke saw a stone outcropping, beneath which was an almost hidden indentation in the rock.

Luke pulled a clump of brush away and bent slightly to gain entrance. Waving the glow rod around, he saw that the ground inside was dry and the air was still. Only extending about five meters back, it could barely be called a cave, but it would be more than sufficient to provide them with shelter.

After gently laying Mara's limp body down, Luke pulled out one of their thin survival blankets. Spreading it out on the hard-packed dirt, he moved her on top of it, then retrieved the portable heaters from both their packs and turned them on full power. Luke knew he had to get the wet clothes off Mara to prevent hypothermia, but then what? A search of both packs revealed no spare clothes, and he wasn't sure if two blankets alone would be enough. If only he had thought to bring a dry flightsuit with him from the ship.

Luke glanced down at himself. He did have one dry set of clothes. Even the fatigues he wore underneath shouldn't be too sweaty, as they were made from a special-weave fabric designed for ventilation during long space flights.

His mind made up, Luke shucked off his own boots and flightsuit, then gingerly tugged Mara's boots off and began undoing the fasteners on her sodden jumpsuit. Moving quickly, he pulled it off her nearly frozen body, followed by her shirt and pants. He hesitated a second as he reached her undergarments, then continued on, as they were likewise soaked.

"You can give me a tongue-lashing for this later, Mara," he whispered. "I'll welcome the sound of hearing your voice again."

These were not the circumstances under which he dreamed of seeing her beautiful body, but he had no time to gape now. He peeled off his own tunic and trousers, putting them on her as quickly as possible, followed by his flightsuit. He yanked off his socks and pulled them on her feet, being careful of her ankle, even though he knew she could feel nothing in her unconscious state.

After spreading her clothes out to dry, he sat back on his haunches. There were so many things about the Force he didn't know, but maybe, just maybe...

Pushing her wet hair away from her face and turning her on her side, Luke wrapped the edge of the blanket over her back. He then carefully lay down in front of her, holding her close with one arm as he pulled the second blanket over both of them. Unfortunately, there were too many layers of material between them for his body heat to reach her effectively.

Luke knew many survival guides advocated sharing body heat by skin-to-skin contact. Clearly those guides didn't foresee the danger of an ex-assassin waking up undressed and pressed against a man's similarly unclothed body. Yes, they had slept together in the palace in just their underwear, Luke reflected with fond remembrance, but that was to fool Palpatine. Judging from Mara's testy disposition toward him recently, it was probably best not to take any chances.

Breathing out slowly, Luke let the warmth of the Force engulf him. Now if he could just divert that warmth to Mara... He closed his eyes and set to work.

―――――

Several hours later, Luke came out of his Force trance. Reaching out mentally to Mara, he could feel her Force signature pulsating strongly. Luke sighed happily to himself. She was going to be fine!

He rose wearily and moved to sit cross-legged nearby, leaning back against the cave wall. It was nearly dawn, and still cold outside, but so far the heaters were holding out. Coupled with the residual effects of his Force-warming, the thermo-heaters were more than enough to stave off the chill from his bare skin.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed and thanked the Force for giving him the strength to help Mara.

―――――

Soon afterwards, Mara began to stir. Slowly drifting into consciousness, she tried to clear her muddled thoughts. She felt bundled up in something, and reflexively untangled herself from the blankets.

Mara rubbed her eyes. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was trudging along in the rain, then... falling.

She blinked, and looked around her. A glow rod lay next to a pair of portable heaters. She recognized the latter as the type she carried in her survival pack. But where did the second one come from, and who turned them on?

Mara raised herself up on one elbow to get a better view. She was in some kind of cave. But how did she get here? A sudden thought caused her to pause. She couldn't have managed to get here alone. She reached out with the Force, then froze. Through her foggy mind she could feel another presence.

Stang! Her hold-out blaster was missing. She slowly turned, looking behind her. Someone was sitting there, all right, someone...

"Luke!" Mara cried, as recognition came to her.

Luke opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Hi. Welcome back."

"What happened?" was all Mara could manage to mutter.

"You apparently fell down a hill. You were unconscious when I found you."

Mara digested this. It fit with what little she remembered. She looked up at Luke again, straining to see into the shadows where he sat.

"Where are your clothes?" she blurted out suddenly.

Luke gave a little chuckle. "You're wearing them."

Mara quickly looked down at herself in consternation. "What the...!"

Mara then noticed her own clothes lying on the other side of the heaters. "You took my clothes off!"

"They were soaking wet, and you were freezing to death," he hurried to explain. "Mara, believe me, I was rushing to get you into something dry and warm. I didn't... I would never..."

She looked at him intently. "I trust you." _If it had been anyone else..._

Luke nodded, then crawled over and felt her flightsuit. "Your clothes feel dry. So if you want to change back..."

"Sure, uh..."

Luke looked at her a second, then snagged his boots. "I'll wait outside," he said gallantly.

"All right." Mara stifled a laugh as she observed his attire of undershorts and boots. "Very becoming, Skywalker."

"You know me," he said with a wink. "Always on the cutting edge of fashion."

"Here, at least take this," she said, snatching up one of the blankets and throwing it at him. "I don't want to have to rescue you from freezing. And, uh, Skywalker?"

He paused and waited for her to continue.

"Thanks for the assist."

Luke gave her a warm smile. "You're welcome."

―――――

After both of them were redressed and had partaken of their usual ration bar breakfast, they set out for the elusive village. Luke adamantly insisted on accompanying Mara on the rest of her trek, arguing that he'd finished as much of the repair work as he could. They weren't going to be able to take off until they tracked down a new stabilizer rod.

They made their way through the forest, mostly in silence. Mara felt Luke was moving slower than he normally would have, for her benefit, which annoyed her no end and made her more determined than ever to keep up. It was bad enough that she had to lean on the makeshift staff he'd fashioned for her, carved from a sturdy branch by his lightsaber. She did grudgingly take his hand for help up a steep embankment, and chastised herself for feeling disappointed when he let go after reaching the top.

"Ready to take a break?" he asked suddenly.

"No, of course not," she spat, putting on her best indignant look.

"Mara, a few minutes of rest isn't going to matter. It isn't like we're going to go all the way tonight." An alternate meaning for his last sentence sprang unbidden to Luke's mind. He looked sharply at Mara, gratefully noting she seemed to be engrossed in her own thoughts.

_I am getting tired,_ Mara thought. _Why not just admit it to him? He won't think any less of me._

She resisted the urge to rub the knotted muscles in her calves. _What's he mumbling about now?_ Mara swore she heard him say something about 'going all the way tonight.' But when she finally looked up at him, he was silent, staring off at nothing, his face an impenetrable mask.

Mara shivered slightly, the temperature beginning to drop as sunset loomed closer. "Let's just keep going. I'm ready to get out of this forsaken wilderness."

"All right," Luke acquiesced without further argument. "Perhaps for another hour, then we'll need to stop and find a place to camp for the night."

Mara grunted an acknowledgment, taking off with a renewed vigor.

―――――

"Is this what happened to you last night?" Luke asked after awhile. "You were determined to keep moving long after you should have stopped?" His tone was neither accusatory nor condescending.

"I was doing just fine last night," she retorted. Thoughobviously the night hadn't turned out 'just fine,'Mara thought with a grimace. "I can't help it that the rocks were slippery in the rain."

"They usually are." Luke turned, cracking a teasing grin.

"I didn't think Jedi were supposed to have smart mouths," she huffed, leaning on her stick a little more heavily.

"Never heard of any rules against it," he replied with a chuckle. "Good thing, too, if you're to become a Jedi."

That remark earned him a whack across the shoulder from her improvised cane.

"Ow! Hey, watch it," he complained.

"I have no intention of becoming a Jedi, and you know it," she snapped.

"All right, all right, I was just kidding," he protested, but Mara detected a twinkle in his eye. "Why don't you take the lead?" he then offered. At her questioning look, he added, "I want to stay out of reach of that new weapon of yours."

―――――

After nearly an hour more of walking, during which Luke easily overtook Mara, he called a halt to their trek.

"Here, this looks like a good place," he announced, indicating the small clearing they had entered. Mara looked around, too cold and tired to argue. She noted the inviting bed of pine needles that covered the ground.

"Sure, whatever," she said, dropping to the ground right where she stood.

Luke knew better than to comment on her uncommon complacency. He had felt her fatigue increase as they traveled, and had tried to slow their pace without provoking her ire.

He let his pack fall and scouted out their surroundings. "I don't think we'll find any wood dry enough for a fire," he informed his companion. He proceeded to check the fuel levels on their portable heaters.

"There's only about an hour's worth of fuel left in each one," Luke said. "I'll turn one on now, then switch the other on when the first runs out."

Not receiving any response, Luke looked behind him. Mara still sat in the same spot, eyes closed, apparently asleep.

Luke smiled to himself and pulled the two blankets out of their packs. Laying one hand on her shoulder, he softly called her name. Her eyes flew open, and Luke could just make out their shiny emerald brilliance in the twilight.

"Bedtime," he soothed. "Do you want a ration bar first? Or a drink of water?"

Mara shook her head. "No," she mumbled, lying down on her side and pulling her blanket over herself.

Luke unfolded the second blanket and started to drape it over her also.

"What are you doing?" She raised her head slightly. "That's yours."

"You can use it. I don't need it."

"Don't be ridiculous. Your flightsuit's no warmer than mine. You'll freeze."

"I'll be fine. I can keep warm with the Force."

"So can I," Mara countered. "Keep your blanket," she ordered, in a tone that indicated the discussion was over.

Luke shook his head, tucked the covering under his arm, and circled around to the other side of the heaters. Lying down, he looked across the encampment at his companion. He could tell she was already sound asleep. Rolling on his back, he peered up through the canopy of trees, but clouds continued to hide any view of the stars.

The sounds of small animals scurrying through nearby foliage echoed in Luke's ears, followed by the squawk of a predatory fowl. Luke didn't sense any danger from them, but he felt the reassuring weight of his lightsaber resting against his hip.

Sleep eluded him, and his thoughts turned once more to the woman sleeping a few meters away. Though she was no older than he was, he had thought of Mara as a grown woman ever since he had first met her. It was thinking of himself as a grown man, not a boy, that he was having trouble with. Perhaps it was because Han wouldn't quit calling him 'kid.'

Despite his years with the Rebellion, he still felt like an ignorant farmboy ― inexperienced and uneducated where galactic affairs were concerned. Mara had been raised at Imperial Court, tutored by preeminent scholars. In an odd sort of way, her upbringing paralleled Leia's. Groomed by the best, following the direction pointed by their master/foster-father.

But Luke didn't begrudge Leia being the one raised as royalty. He felt as uncomfortable as Han did in a dress uniform. He was just able to ignore it better.

All this musing brought him back to his original pondering. Could Mara ever be content with the likes of him? Could she ever... love him? Did he love her? Did he even know what love was? He kept remembering the infatuation he'd had when he first laid eyes on Leia's image. While he was certain Mara was _not_ another long-lost sister, could he be sure this was more than another schoolboy crush?

Luke's thoughts were interrupted by the click of the first heater turning off. Rising wearily, he switched on the second machine, knowing it would never last the night. He glanced at Mara's huddled form, then, grabbing his blanket, spread it over her own. Cautiously reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. No, this was no simple crush he was feeling. This was different. Totally different. The agony he had felt when he first spotted her at the bottom of that ravine still echoed in his heart. He couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life without her.

Returning to his former spot, Luke curled onto his side and fell into a deep sleep.

―――――

Nearly two hours later, Mara stirred restlessly. A shiver ran through her, but strangely, she didn't feel very cold. It was as if she were experiencing someone else's... Mara's eyes snapped open in the darkness. She could barely make out Luke's figure through the gloom, but could tell he was no longer covered by a blanket. A quick check confirmed her suspicion ― she wore both coverings. Blast him!

Mara rose to return the survival blanket to Luke, or perhaps strangle him with it, she wasn't sure which. But as she crouched next to him, hearing the rhythm of his quiet breathing, the hostility drained out of her. She knew in her heart he wasn't being patronizing when he did kind things for her. He was just being himself. If she gave him back his blanket, she'd most likely wake up in the morning to find them both on her once more.

There was one solution to this, of course. And it wasn't as if they'd never shared the same coverings before. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion he'd lain by her the previous night. Maybe he'd stay sleeping and wouldn't even notice.

Silently, Mara lay down on her left side facing Luke, drawing both covers up to their chins. After a few moments, he stirred slightly, and Mara felt him move his right arm down to cradle her head next to his. His flightsuit was partially unzipped, and his left hand was tucked inside the opening. Trying not to disturb him, Mara slipped one hand in on top of his.

Although the tempo of his breathing never changed, Luke's right hand curved down around Mara's back, pulling her closer. She froze for an instant. _Was he awake? Or merely reacting to her in his sleep? Did it matter?_ The aura of peace and warmth being generated by him was overwhelming, and Mara felt herself floundering in it.

She intertwined her fingers with his inside his suit, squeezing his hand. He responded by lowering his face to hers. Their cold lips met in a warming kiss, lightly at first, then deepening into a passion that Mara hoped would never end. Luke pulled her even tighter against him, their legs entangling as their breath became ragged gasps.

Neither said a word, and eventually Luke pulled back slightly. He withdrew his hand from inside his suit, making sure hers stayed behind. Never opening his eyes, he wrapped both arms around her protectively as her face nestled against his neck. Mara felt herself falling into a peaceful slumber, her dreams merging with reality.

―――――

Luke awoke just as daybreak was dawning. He felt as if he were missing something, or someone. He peered across the camp to see Mara packing their gear into their packs. Something fluttered into Luke's eyes, and he gave a start as he realized it was snow.

"It just started a little while ago," came his companion's voice. Luke gave a grunt, then rose to his feet, shaking off the wintry flakes. He watched as Mara folded a blanket tightly, wedging it into her pack. Looking back at his bare sleeping spot, he decided she must have already packed the other covering. He remembered putting both of them over her during the night. _But hadn't she...? Or had he been dreaming... again?_

Mara paused, giving him her usual sarcastic stare. "You gonna help?" She waved toward the remaining equipment. "Or are you taking root right there?"

Jolted out of his reverie, Luke began disassembling the heaters. "Sorry," he muttered. "I was just thinking."

"Uh-huh." Mara took the now-folded heating device from him, stuffing it unceremoniously into his pack. "Sleep well?" she said abruptly.

Luke looked up nervously. _Was she implying something? Or sounding him out? _He swallowed the lump in his throat, and refocused on the second heater. "Uh, yeah." He glanced out the corner of one eye, trying to gauge her reaction. "How about you?"

"Fine," she said flippantly, grabbing the other heater out of his hand and cramming it into her own pack. She rose, tossing him a ration bar. "Here, you can eat this on the way. We need to get going. This snow doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon."

Luke slung his survival pack onto his back, and peeled open the ration bar. Not surprisingly, Mara had already taken off ahead of him. He hastened to catch up, noting that she still had sense enough to use the walking stick he'd made for her. The snow already covered the ground enough that they left footprints prominently trailing behind them.

Mara plowed along in silence. She probably could have done without the cane, but, well, Luke had made it for her, and she didn't feel like leaving it behind. Not that anybody in the galaxy had better dare call her sentimental. She glanced over her shoulder at her 'shadow,' who looked away quickly when caught staring at her. He hadn't mentioned last night at all, which rather surprised Mara. Luke had a penchant for blurting out all kinds of emotional retrospection, though they hadn't had anything this personal to discuss in a long time. A sudden thought occurred to Mara ― maybe he didn't even remember last night. Maybe he _had_ been asleep the entire time.

Well, she certainly wouldn't be forgetting it any time soon. A flush ran through her as she recalled huddling against him under the warm blankets, his strong arms pulling her closer, his breath warming her cheek, his burning lips covering hers. The thought of falling asleep with him every night like that quickened her pulse, and consequently distracted her enough that she stumbled over a branch half-hidden in the snow. Blast him to all creation!

"Are you okay?" Luke was suddenly at her side, grasping her elbow to prevent her from falling. She pulled away from him brusquely.

"Let go," she demanded. "You don't have to baby me."

"Sorry," he murmured meekly, dropping back to his subservient position. It seemed like he was always apologizing to her for something or other. Which made him believe all the more that he had dreamed what happened between them last night. If he had actually taken that much liberty with her, she'd have bitten his head off. In fact, he probably wouldn't even be alive right now to be thinking about it. Well, at least it had been a good dream. Wasn't the first time he'd awakened with images of Mara still floating in his head. But aside from that dream of them together in the whirlpool, it was definitely the most realistic. He wouldn't mind having one like that every night. Perhaps even with a little more detail. Or a lot more.

Luke sighed to himself, trudging along through the deepening drifts. Maybe that's all there would ever be between them. Just dreams.

―――――

The wet snowflakes grew denser as the morning wore on, confirming Mara's prediction. To make matters worse, the wind had intensified tenfold. It stung at their faces and hampered their vision. Mara had pushed her long braid of hair down inside her collar, but the gusts were determined to make a mockery of her attempts to keep it out of her face.

Luke squinted, watching as Mara yet again pushed a damp strand away from her eyes. Her ears, cheeks, and nose were red, and her lips were fast becoming chapped. Luke was sure he didn't look in any better shape.

"Mara, wait up!" he called over the deafening howling. He pulled her behind some dense shrubbery that provided a mediocre windbreak.

"We need to keep going," she protested.

"We need to cover our heads," he countered, already digging in his pack for the trusty blanket. Pulling it out, he folded it more or less into a triangle. Mara didn't object as he brushed the snowflakes out of her hair, then wrapped the covering around her head, knotting the ends together with his frozen fingers. Only her emerald eyes peered out at him in gratitude.

Mara pointed wordlessly at her own pack, and Luke moved behind her to repeat his actions with the other blanket. She helped him pull it tightly about his face, blue eyes blinking at her in silent appreciation.

(I can't believe your Alliance can't even pack gloves or headgear in a survival pack,) Mara groused in mental communication as they resumed their trek, annoyed that both of them had left their flight gloves back at the B-wing.

Luke didn't reply, but reached out once more to pull her to a stop. _How could he be so thoughtless?_ He pried her numb fingers off her walking stick, taking the makeshift cane into his own right hand. Linking his left arm with her right, he stuck both their hands inside his pocket. Mara started to complain, just out of habit, but realized the sensibility of the arrangement. His right hand couldn't get frostbite, and the pole definitely helped brace them against the fury of the blizzard.

Now steadier against the wind, they continued on toward the hoped-for sanctuary of the village. By midday, they were both tired, hungry, and frozen to the core. Despite his bravado, Mara could sense that Luke wasn't coping any better with the snowstorm than she was. She spotted a grove of towering evergreen trees, their branches extending down all the way to the ground.

Mara tugged on Luke's arm, and nodded toward a particularly large specimen. (In there,) she sent. (We need to take a break.)

He agreed silently, and they stooped low as they pushed the snow-laden branches aside and made their way into the inner refuge of the huge tree. They found an opening near the trunk with just enough room for them to slump to the ground. The snow had barely penetrated here, and the wind was only a distant din.

Mara felt a bit disappointed as Luke pulled their joined hands out of his pocket and began rummaging in his pack for the ever-popular ration bar. It had felt good, Mara thought to herself, having him clasp her hand tightly like that. In fact, it felt better and better every time they held hands for one reason or another.

Luke pulled the covering away from his mouth, and handed Mara her portion of lunch. "Of all things, why did we have to go and crash here in the middle of winter?" he griped. "And in a blizzard yet." He ripped open the packaging and bit off the end of the bar in undisguised exasperation.

Mara raised an eyebrow in surprise. She'd been around Luke for over two months, but had never heard him resort to pitiful whining like this. "Why, Skywalker, I would think a desert boy like you would appreciate the novelty of snow," she teased, trying to lighten his mood.

"If I never saw snow again in my whole life, it would be too soon."

This was really piquing Mara's curiosity. "You have some kind of bad experience involving snow?" she guessed.

"You could say that," he bit out, then decided she needed more of an explanation, and would probably hound him until she got it. "Hoth. I almost died in a blizzard on Hoth."

Mara turned her full attention to her companion at this unexpected revelation. "I remember the reports of the battle on Hoth, but I thought you were in a snowspeeder."

"This was a couple days before the battle. I was out on patrol, on a tauntaun." He paused, looking at Mara.

"Go on," she motioned. "I've seen holos of them." She reflected silently on the hardships that the Rebels had endured just to stay one step ahead of the Empire. Even the confidential reports of the Imperial hierarchy disregarded the adverse conditions under which the determined insurgents fought and lived; the propaganda issued to the general populace blatantly distorted those conditions.

"Well, I thought I saw a meteorite hit and radioed to Han that I wanted to check it out before coming in. I found out later it was actually an Imperial probe droid, which was how they found us."

Luke's use of the word 'they,' instead of 'you,' didn't escape her attention. As always, he seemed to completely disassociate her from the Empire, and she didn't feel compelled to change his line of thinking.

"Anyway," he continued, "just as I clicked off the comlink, I was attacked by this huge snow creature called a wampa. It swiped me across the face with its claws, knocking me unconscious." He absently ran his fingers along the faint scars on his face. "That's how I got these," he murmured.

_I'm still learning new things about him,_ Mara thought to herself. She had noticed the indistinct marks, but had never gotten up the nerve to ask him about them, a fact which surprised her no end. She turned her attention away from his face, as he was continuing with his story.

"The wampa dragged both me and my then-dead tauntaun back to its lair. When I came to, my feet were frozen to the ceiling of an ice cavern, and I was hanging upside down, waiting to be the next course."

"Next course?" Mara questioned, not liking his inference.

Luke nodded. "It was chewing on the remains of my tauntaun. I must have made a noise, 'cause it looked up and moved toward me." Luke started to take another bite of his food stick, then decided against it. "Terrified wouldn't begin to describe how I felt."

Luke shivered slightly, remembering that harrowing episode in his life. Mara reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it in friendship. He gave her a slight smile, then returned to his narration.

"Then I spotted my lightsaber laying nearby, naturally nearly a meter beyond my reach and buried halfway in the snow, to boot. Keep in mind, I'd had very little training at this point. I'd taught myself to lift pebbles and such with the Force, but nothing as big as my saber. I held out my hand, like I expected it to just fly right at me. And the wampa was getting closer and closer." Luke closed his eyes in reflection. "I'm still not sure how, but I managed to relax and draw on the Force, and suddenly the lightsaber was in my hand. I cut myself loose and swung at the wampa. I don't even think I killed it; I just ran out of the cave for all I was worth."

"Why didn't―?" Mara began.

"I couldn't find my comlink," he interrupted. "And if you were going to ask why I didn't kill the creature and stay in the cave, I've never claimed to always do the smart thing." He grinned a bit sheepishly. "I think I was afraid there might be more creatures. And how else could I experience the 'novelty,' as you put it, of trudging through a blizzard in knee-high snow, with dried blood frozen to my face, falling down a snow bank and collapsing in a drift unconscious. That was the first time Ben appeared to me, though," he added, staring off in remembrance.

"Ben appeared, in a blizzard?" Mara knew who Ben was. One couldn't be around Luke much without hearing about Ben Kenobi.

"I'm not sure if I woke up and saw him, or if he entered my unconscious mind, but he was there," Luke declared with conviction. "He told me to go to Dagobah, to train with Master Yoda."

"Just like that? How did he know you were even going to survive?"

Luke smiled again. "He just knew."

"So how did you manage to live through that?"

"Han. Han came looking for me when I didn't show up at the base. The snowspeeders weren't working yet, so he rode back out on a tauntaun. It was getting close to dark, and the temperature plunges rapidly on Hoth. He risked his life for me, Mara."

As Mara listened to Luke's narrative, she felt her insides clenching at the thought of how close he came to dying ― and how close _she_ came to never meeting him. The fate of the galaxy, and her own fate, had teetered unknowingly on the actions of a hungry beast and the steadfast friendship of a strong-willed smuggler.

"Han cares about you, Luke. You're like a little brother to him."

Luke shrugged. "Guess so. Anyway, he found me passed out in the snow, nearly frozen to death."

"How'd he manage to locate you?"

"I think Ben guided him, but don't bring up that theory to Han." Luke laughed. "As soon as he dismounted, he said his tauntaun fell over dead from the cold. So what's he do, but uses my lightsaber to slice it open, and stuffs me inside to keep me warm till he gets a shelter erected."

Mara wrinkled her nose just at the thought. "I'm glad there weren't any tauntauns handy when you found me."

"You should be," he returned. "I'm eternally grateful to Han, don't get me wrong. But I swear I can still smell that stench." Luke leaned back against a branch. "The next morning, snowspeeders appeared and picked us up. They must have worked all night to get a squad in working order."

He looked over and gave Mara a wink. "So now you know the whole sordid tale."

"I won't kid you about snow ever again, promise," she said with a smile. "But we can't stay in this tree forever. I don't think we can count on Han rescuing us here."

"Nope, guess not." Luke rose, waiting for Mara, who looked a bit hesitant.

"Uh, Skywalker, before we get all bundled up again and go back out there, uh ..." She glanced around, avoiding his gaze. "I could sure use a refresher about now."

Luke shook his head in amusement. "I spotted one about a kilometer back. Wish you'd said something then," he said drolly.

She kicked him lightly with her foot. "Smart aleck."

He motioned off into the dense branches. "Go ahead. I'll avail myself of the men's facilities back this way," he said, pointing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

But instead of heading out, Mara crouched and began rummaging through their packs.

"What are you looking for?" Luke asked curiously. She'd already pocketed her vial of hand sanitizer, he'd noticed, so what else...?

"Something to use for 'fresher wipes," she bit out, not looking up. "When we get back, I'm lodging a complaint about the inadequacy of Alliance-issued survival packs."

Luke stared at her huddled form a moment, then got up the nerve to ask another question. "We've been out here several days. What did you use before?"

She turned just enough to give him a sarcastic look. "I managed to find a tree with big, soft leaves."

Luke chuckled, then began feeling in the multiple pockets of his jumpsuit. Triumphantly, he pulled out a piece of cloth. "How about a mechanic's rag? It's fairly clean; it was a spare."

Mara snatched it out of his hand with a grateful look, then turned and pushed her way through the prickly branches.

After taking care of his own business, Luke returned to their tiny campsite. He was just shrugging his pack onto his back in the close confines of the space when Mara returned.

"All set?" he asked.

"Be right with you." She gathered her own gear, and followed Luke out of the confines of their refuge.

―――――

Mara joined Luke on the leeward side of their tree. The fierceness of the blizzard had increased during their break, a fact that neither of them wanted to acknowledge out loud.

"Ready to get going?" she asked, not any more anxious than he was to brave the vicious storm once more.

_No, I'm ready to drag you back under this tree and ravish you,_ Luke thought. But, he just gave her a bittersweet half-smile and nodded.

"Hey, you, we'll be fine." She reached up with her thumbs, pushing up the corners of his mouth into a smile. "I want to see a real smile." _A genuine, melt-a-girl's-heart, Skywalker smile,_ she thought.

And she got it.

Mara's heart skipped a beat. Stars, she wanted him! She reached up with just one hand this time, and traced his lips with a fingertip. "Your lips are chapped," she whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the wind's howl.

Luke hesitated only a second before leaning over and kissing her gently. "So are yours," he whispered back, before straightening up and smiling once more.

"Flirting again, Jedi? What will people think?"

"I'll let you in on a secret, Jade. You're the only one who's ever witnessed me flirting."

"Do tell. And why would that be?"

"Because there's no one else I have any desire to flirt with."

Mara started to open her mouth to retort, but Luke quickly reached up and pulled her makeshift scarf to cover her mouth and nose.

(You think that's going to stop me?) she sent silently.

He pulled up his own covering. (No, but maybe it'll keep one or both of us from putting a foot in our mouth if we keep up this conversation.) His blue eyes sparkled in amusement at her.

Mara gave him an acknowledging wink and nod, and slipped her right hand down into its warm spot inside his left pocket. But instead of joining her there with his left hand, he pulled her close, reaching behind her to insert his already cold hand into the confines of her left pocket, the fingers of their now united hands quickly intertwining.

(I think we'll have more support against the wind this way,) he sent.

(Whatever you say, Farmboy.) Mara sent him a burst of laughter through the Force.

He hugged her a little tighter and grasped the walking stick once more. They both lowered their heads and braced themselves to pierce the fury of the snowstorm. But their hearts were a little warmer as they met the gust of wind that greeted them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks go out to ****Barbossa'sApples, Mara look-a-like, Amanda, Jedi-Princess, and Da Mess Maker for your reviews. **

**Jedi-Princess ―**_ If I could find it and knew where to send it I would send you my copy of the book that feature Prince (weaselly) Xizor!_ ― Do you mean _Shadows of the Empire_? If so, I have that. I reference it a few times throughout _Journey of Discovery_. But thanks for the offer.

**Zipporahvulcan** ― I hope by now you can get to these chapters. Must've been a glitch at ff.n right when you were trying. No one else has mentioned having trouble.

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Four**

Luke and Mara trudged onward for hours, bantering off and on through their mindlink, but mostly just putting one weary foot in front of the other in silence, both lost in their own private thoughts. Eventually the snow turned to sleet, stinging their eyes mercilessly. They were almost grateful when the sleet changed to rain, even though their so-called weatherproof flightsuits didn't keep the chilling dampness from penetrating to their bones.

Sundown was fast approaching when the hapless pair crested a small hill and looked down into a tiny village nestled in a picturesque valley.

"I don't see any spaceports," Mara commented, pulling the sodden scarf down as her teeth chattered in the cold drizzle.

"No," Luke agreed, peering through the dusky gloom. "I don't either. But we're not here to acquire a new ship—"

"We're not?" Mara interrupted sarcastically. "Stang!"

"We're here," Luke continued smoothly, purposely ignoring her tone, "to get a new stabilizer rod, and if possible, get a message out."

Carefully making their way down the slick hillside, they entered the village proper, curiously studying the quaint shops and homes as they traversed the cobblestone streets. Slushy snow squished under their booted feet.

Flickering flames of light shone through old-fashioned glass windowpanes, and citizens, bundled up against the cold, hurried through the light drizzle. A few of the more inquisitive, pausing to observe the strangely dressed newcomers, pointed and whispered among themselves.

"I haven't seen any species yet other than human," Luke observed. "I wonder if the whole planet is human-only, or if the settlements are segregated?"

"Frankly, I don't care," Mara groused. "But we can't just wander up and down the streets, Jedi, discussing their isolationist practices," she continued. "We're going to have to stop and ask for directions at some point. I, for one, would like to get out of this rain."

Luke was ready to find a warm, dry spot himself. "All right," he responded slowly, looking around at the surrounding buildings. "Over there." He pointed down the street. "Looks like some kind of cantina."

Mara took off in the direction he indicated without a moment's hesitation, with Luke hurrying to catch up. He stopped short, though, as he noted that the shingle for the Lucky Red Bone Pub was written in Basic. The style of the script was archaic and the words were spelled a bit differently than normal, reminding Luke of ancient writing he had seen in historical documents. But it was Basic nevertheless, and a planet whose human inhabitants spoke Basic surely should have been on their navigational charts.

All conversation in the pub ceased as the two drenched, orange-garbed travelers entered. Luke took the initiative and addressed the wide-eyed gawkers.

"Hello," he began, sensing no antagonism, only curiosity. "Uhm... we were wondering if..."

He was interrupted by the booming voice of the bartender. "Greetings to ye both, young strangers." He welcomed them with a thick, guttural accent. "Come, have a seat. Can I get ye somethin' to drink?"

"No, thank you," Luke returned, trying to place the man's brogue. "We just need some directions."

"We need to find a repair shop," Mara put in, still standing even though a nearby patron had pulled out a chair for her.

"Aye, we'll help ye all we can." The bartender came closer, motioning to an empty table near a large fireplace. "But at least let me get ye both a tankard of ale," he added, as a sneeze escaped Mara.

"Ale nothin', Efam," a large-boned, middle-aged matron objected. "Why, these young folks are chilled clear through. What they need is some hot tea." She bustled off to where a kettle sat on a primitive-looking cooking unit.

Luke tugged on Mara's sleeve and gestured for her to join him at the table. "You're buying, right?" he whispered. "You did bring credits along, to pay for a new rod, didn't you?"

"You're a real sport, Farmboy." Mara smirked, smiling at him. "Guess I can spring for a cup of tea. Consider it your reward for coming after me." She fished through her pack and pulled out a credit chip. "Though I still maintain I really didn't need your help."

"Whatever you say, Mara," Luke returned, draping his sodden blanket over the back of his chair.

The woman returned with two steaming mugs and a cheery smile. "Here ye be."

Mara handed her the credit chip. "Will this be sufficient?"

The woman stared at the foreign object, turning it over curiously. "What be this?"

"Oh." Mara held out her hand when the woman handed it back. "Do you only take Imperial script?"

The woman laughed heartily as she helped herself to a chair at their little table. "Ye two don't have any dekas, do ye now?"

"If that's your currency, then, no." Mara looked at the two warm mugs around which she and Luke had cupped their frozen hands. "So I guess we can't pay for the tea," she murmured.

"Ah, lass." The matron smiled toothily. "What kind o' welcome would it be to visitors if I was to quibble over a cup o' tea.

"Now then, me name is Filia," she continued, holding out a hand in greeting. "That be me husband, Efam." She nodded at the bartender. "And what might yer names be?"

"I'm Luke." Luke returned her handshake, and nodded his head toward his companion. "And this is Mara."

Luke and Mara soon learned they had landed in Zembuhl, which was the largest of several isolated villages in the area. One by one, Filia introduced all the patrons in the pub. Some came up and shook hands, while others raised a mug or hand in a friendly greeting. Luke did his best to catalog each name and face into his memory.

(What are you doing, Skywalker?) Mara sent as she accepted an outstretched hand. (We'll never see these people again. You don't need to memorize all these names.)

(You never know,) Luke returned, smiling at the next introductee. (We may need all their help to get off this planet.)

"What village be ye from?" said Efam, as he came over to join the conversation.

"We're from Coruscant," Mara answered.

The occupants of the pub all glanced at one another in confusion.

"We've not heard o' that one," Filia responded.

"Perhaps you know of it as Imperial Center," Mara went on, thinking that maybe the Emperor's name for the seat of government would be more familiar.

"That's an impressive tag fer a village, lass," Efam returned, "but we still don't know o' it."

"It's very far from here," Luke put in, giving Mara a cautionary glance.

"We're all glad to meet ye," Filia was saying, "wherever ye be from. Winter Festival is the only time we see new faces here."

"Winter Festival?" Mara asked.

Filia and several others gave her perplexed looks. "Isn't that why ye two are here?"

"No." Luke shook his head, setting down his mug. "Our ship broke down, and we need a part to repair it."

"Ship?" a bearded man at the next table questioned. "Why, the nearest sea be a fortnight's travel from here. And why would ye be sailin' in the dead o' winter, if ye weren't comin' fer the Festival?"

(They think we mean a seafaring ship,) Mara sent to Luke with a frown, then turned to the speaker. "No, that isn't the kind of ship—"

Luke laid one hand on her arm to interrupt. "We were fishing, and were blown off course," he interjected into the conversation, "and lost our... maps. So we just started walking until we reached... here."

_Wherever in blue blazes 'here' is,_ Mara thought sourly.

"Fishin'?" someone asked. "Just ye... and the missus?" The man's bushy eyebrows raised as he eyed Mara speculatively.

Luke hurriedly nudged Mara with his foot before she could voice her indignation at the man's label for her. "We were scouting... for new locations... for the spring," he fumbled, purposely ignoring the glare he knew Mara was sporting and hoping against hope she would hold her tongue. "And we're not married," he added. "We're partners."

Another patron, seated near the bar, spoke up. "Those are strange clothes ye both be wearin'. Are they some kind o' new fishin' garb?"

"Something like that," Luke replied carefully, knowing his explanations were shaky at best. "They're supposed to make us easier to spot, if we get lost."

"Sounds like ye are lost, laddie," the man snorted, eliciting a round of guffaws.

"Oh, hush, Hener," Filia admonished him. "Don't be makin' fun o' the poor things."

"Just shows what can happen when you leave a man at the helm in a storm," Mara put in dryly. This time a titter of laughter came from only the women in the pub.

Efam cleared his throat to get back to the business at hand. "What kind o' part be ye needin' fer yer boat?"

"A long metal rod," Luke replied. He reached over and pulled the two broken pieces of stabilizer rod out of Mara's pack. "Like this."

"Hmmm." The men of the pub all gathered closer to inspect the piece of hardware. "Never seen nothin' like that before," one of them commented, scratching his chin in thought. "Could be Hiley would be able to fashion somethin' like that fer ye, though."

"Hiley? Who's that?" Mara perked up. Maybe there was hope after all. "Where can we find him?"

"Hiley crafts tools an' such out o' metal," Filia explained. "But ye won't be findin' him anywhere tonight. He's already gone home fer the evenin'."

"In the morning, then." Luke gave Mara an encouraging smile. "We'll just stay the night somewhere..."

"Oh, my." Filia clapped her hands together in sudden thought. "Ye have no place to stay, do ye?"

At the negative shakes of two wet, bedraggled heads, she continued. "Efam and me'd be glad to let ye stay in our home, but I'm afraid ye'd find it a bit crowded, what with our seven children."

"Aye," the bearded man added. "Most of us are full up. Me and the missus got more relatives visitin' fer Festival than we got beds fer."

"We don't expect any of you to put us up," Luke assured them. "We'll be fine."

(Speak for yourself,) Mara grumbled silently, giving him a frown. (I was looking forward to a real bed.)

"There be a boardin' house," Filia informed them. "It's run by me ol' chum, Merta. But with the Festival, don't know if she'd be havin' any rooms left."

Mara looked at Luke hopefully, then turned to Filia. "Can we go find out?"

"'Course, lass. I'll take ye over there right now."

"But we still don't have any... anything to pay for a room," Luke objected, even as Mara began picking up their packs.

"P'shaw, lad," Filia said with a laugh. "Merta's more soft-hearted than I am. She'd never turn ye away."

Luke reluctantly gave in, and after thanking the pub's occupants for their help, he and Mara followed Filia out into the night.

―――――

(Scouting for fishing locations?) Mara scoffed silently to Luke as they made their way down the street. (In a blizzard?)

(I grew up in a desert,) he returned testily. (What makes you think I know anything about fishing?)

(Then you should have made up a different cover story.)

(Like what? We were on a cruise ship, checking out spots for sightseeing tours?) He gave a derisive snort. (You actually believe these people know what space travel is?)

He was saved from hearing any mocking retort when Filia informed them that the large, three-story, clapboard building they were approaching was their destination. As far as Mara and Luke could tell, this was one of the taller structures in the village.

"Merta!" Filia called out as they entered.

"That you, Filia?" a pleasant voice answered. Wiping her hands on her apron, a plump, jovial-faced woman emerged from a nearby dining chamber.

"Aye, Merta," Filia greeted her friend. "I got a couple o' cold, wet travelers here who be needin' a room."

"Two rooms," Mara and Luke spoke up simultaneously. They looked at each other, then just as quickly looked away.

Merta gave a short chuckle. "Sorry to disappoint ye, but I only have one room left. And I only be havin' that one cause it's way up in the attic."

Luke glanced at Mara, but she was steadfastly studying a crack in the worn planks under their feet.

"That will be fine," Luke finally spoke up. "But we, uh,... we can't,... we don't..."

"What he be tryin' to tell ye, Merta," Filia put in, "is that they don't have any dekas."

"Don't they now?" Merta placed her hands on her wide hips. Making a half-hearted attempt at looking stern, she turned to face the newcomers. "So what would ye be offerin' in exchange for this room?"

"We're hard workers," Mara spoke up quickly.

"We'd be glad to work for our keep," Luke continued.

"That be so, heh?" Merta smiled broadly at them. "Well, I might be able to find some chores 'round here for the both o' ye. I could be usin' some help, 'specially here at Festival time."

"Of course, anything at all," Luke readily agreed, glancing at Mara as she covered another sneeze.

"Then why we be standin' in this drafty hall?" Merta snatched up an oil-filled lamp. "Let's get ye two into a warm bed."

Luke quickly shot a sideways glance at Mara, but she once again refused to meet his gaze.

"I'll be seein' ye all tomorrow." Filia smiled as she headed back toward the door. "Sleep tight, young ones, and don't be lettin' the bedbeetles bite," she added with a wink.

(Why is everyone obsessed with getting us into bed together,) Mara groused silently, as she and Luke followed Merta up a narrow stairway.

(You're not expecting me to answer that, are you?) Luke returned, following behind her.

(I'm not expecting you to do anything tonight, Farmboy.)

Luke wasn't quite sure if she didn't _want_ him to do anything, or didn't think he was capable of it. And he wasn't about to ask for clarification.

"Here we be," Merta puffed, out of breath from the three-story climb. She opened the door to reveal a rather spacious room, its sloped ceiling indicative of its position under the roof's eaves. Setting her lamp on a small table, she lit another lantern that was mounted on the wall.

Luke's gaze swept around the room, and he appreciatively eyed the assortment of furniture occupying it. A pair of wooden chairs flanked a small table, their blistered paint suggesting they were occasionally left too close to the large stone fireplace. A plain-looking chest with three drawers stood sentry next to a high bed, its carved headboard apparently from the same type of wood as the rest of the furniture.

Wooden furniture of any kind was unheard of on Tatooine, and Rebel accommodations rarely included more than a plasteel desk and chair and a durasteel-frame bunk. To Luke, the hand-crafted bureau and well-worn chairs were just as wondrous as the luxurious furnishings he'd encountered in his Imperial suite.

Merta paused as she noticed the young man drinking in every aspect of the unadorned garret, while the girl merely stood waiting indifferently. "I know 'tis not very fancy up here."

"No, no, it's fine," he assured her.

The landlady nodded in gratitude. "Well, ye'll need to get a fire goin,'... uh..."

"Luke," he supplied, before glancing at his companion.

"Mara," she added her own introduction.

"Aye, pleased to meet ye." Merta gestured toward the fireplace along the outer wall, then looked pointedly at Luke. "Ye'll need to bring up more wood from outside, to keep yer fire goin' all night." He took the hint and bent to stack wood inside the hearth from an adjacent log rack.

Merta motioned Mara to follow her as she entered a small doorway on the opposite wall. "There be a bathin' chamber fer ye in here," she announced, lighting another wall-mounted oil lamp. "Ye might want to be startin' a fire in here, too," she added, "if ye plan on takin' a bath tonight. There's buckets ye can fill with water." She pointed toward an ancient-looking pump sticking up from a wooden cabinet. "And then ye can heat them on the stove, or hang them over the fire." She nodded her head back toward the outer room.

Mara frowned at the squat, black, heating apparatus that sat on a slab of bricks.

"Ye may have to pump a few minutes fer the water to get all the way up here," Merta was continuing, but Mara was busy staring at the oval, footed bathtub. She was already imagining herself sinking down in a tubful of warm water. The last time she'd been in a bathtub had been... with... Mara bit her lip as she glanced through the doorway to see Luke coaxing the flames to life in the stone fireplace. She studied him a second, then looked back at the tub.

"It might be a tight squeeze, but ye both are small. I think ye'd fit."

Horrified, Mara jerked around to stare wide-eyed at Merta, who was standing with her hands on her hips and a wide grin on her face.

"No, no," Mara sputtered. "We're not... It's not... We're just friends," she finally spit out.

Merta gave a hearty laugh. "Don't worry, lass. I was young once, too, believe it or not."

_Obviously these people don't know us very well,_ Mara thought to herself. At the same time, though, her mind was adding Luke to the image in her head.

Merta proceeded to show Mara the rest of the not-so-modern amenities of the small chamber. The two women then went back out to the bedroom and found Luke hanging his flightsuit over a chair near the fire.

"Mara, I think if we drape our clothes around the fire, they should all be dry by morning," he announced with a smile.

"Sure," Mara replied. Which meant they'd have nothing to sleep in. _Wonder if Luke thought that far ahead? Probably not. Then again..._

"Ye don't have any other clothes to wear?" Merta broke into the conversation.

"No," Luke answered for both of them, then cleared his throat in attempt to cover the rather loud growling of his stomach. "Sorry," he apologized. "Guess it's been awhile since we've eaten."

Merta chuckled merrily. "No food, no clothes, no money. What a sorry pair ye are, fer sure." She didn't look behind her to see the scowl on Mara's face. "Tell ye what ― as soon as ye get settled in, one of ye come downstairs and I'll fix ye up some supper to bring up here. And I might even be able to dig up some clean clothes for ye."

"That would be very kind of you," Luke returned graciously. He closed the door behind Merta as she left her two newest boarders.

Luke took a deep breath, then turned around to face Mara. She was leaning against the edge of the bed, bending to undo the fasteners on one of her flight boots.

"So, here we are," she muttered, not looking up. Luke crossed the room and, crouching down, helped her pull off the heavy boot. When both boots were off, she wrangled out of the top half of her wet flightsuit. Luke reached to help as she pushed it down over her hips.

"Getting in more practice pulling my clothes off, Farmboy?"

Luke's hand stiffened mid-reach, and a stricken look filled his face. "Sorry," he muttered softly, before rising and crossing to one of the windows.

"I was just kidding, Skywalker." Mara blew out a breath. Most guys would have pulled at her clothes that much more eagerly. But Luke wasn't like most guys. Besides, she didn't want to be around someone who was anxious only to get her undressed. Calrissian had made more than his share of offers along those lines. No, the only man she wanted to be close to was now bracing himself against the sides of the window sash, staring silently out into the night. And she was driving him farther away with each sarcastic comment.

"We were lucky to find this place," Mara continued, determined to alter her abrasive nature, at least as far as Luke was concerned.

"Hmmm," came the noncommittal reply.

"This is much better than sleeping out on the ground." Mara ran one hand under the covers. "I think this mattress has feathers in it." She glanced at Luke, who didn't even acknowledge he'd heard her. "We ought to get a good night's sleep, at least."

Mara frowned at his rigid posture. Now what was wrong? He was usually a regular chattercube. "Hey, you decide to quit talking to me? What's so interesting outside?"

"It's snowing," Luke finally murmured quietly, still not turning around.

"Which makes me that much more glad we're in here instead of out there."

"You shouldn't be here at all," Luke bit out in a frustrated voice.

"What?" Mara could sense guilt gripping him as tightly as he was gripping the window frame. But guilt over what? Over the ship malfunctions? Over what had happened just now? Or last night? She was the one who had lain down next to him; he certainly had no reason to feel guilty.

Mara rose and gently laid a hand on his arm. "Luke, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I got you into this whole mess," he muttered, turning to look at her at last, sorrow filling his face.

"It's not your fault," she countered. "Mon Mothma sent us on this blasted mission. You couldn't help it."

Mara narrowed her eyes at his renewed silence. "Skywalker?"

"She sent me. Not you," he choked out, biting his lip as he shifted to once more look back out into the night. "It was my doing," he admitted in a dejected voice. Luke was certain that Mara may very well never speak to him again, but he felt compelled to disclose his deception. 'Confession is good for the soul,' Aunt Beru always said. _So why did he feel so miserable?_

"What do you mean?" Mara questioned, her low, emotionless voice not revealing her reaction.

"I'm the one that insisted you come with me on the mission." He glanced over his shoulder at her again, his culpable expression underscoring his strained confession. "I practically refused to go without you."

The hardened woman that had been Palpatine's virtual slave would have had a vibroblade to the Jedi's throat for such an unpardonable offense. But for reasons Mara could not begin to fathom, regret over her current situation was the farthest thing from her mind, while hearing his explanation seemed paramount. "Why?" she breathed.

"I don't know... I mean... I do... but... I didn't want us to be apart..."

Mara considered the underlying motive behind his actions. He'd defied Mon Mothma, just to have her with him. A feeling of warmth spread through her, disturbed only by the pathetic look he still wore. "So why the long face? I'm here, we're together,..."

"Mara, you could have frozen to death in that ravine!" He spun around, clutching her upper arms. "The ship could have crashed and killed you. We may not be able to get off this planet..."

Luke's worries only served to produce an amused smirk on Mara's face. "I have to hand it to you, Jedi ― you do know how to show a girl a good time."

"I'm serious, Mara." Luke pulled her a little closer. "I put you in danger, just because of my own selfish reasons. I couldn't bear it if I lost you..." His voice trailed off as he gazed into her emerald eyes.

"Luke," Mara whispered softly. "I'm pretty tough, you know. You're not going to get rid of me that easily."

Luke raised one hand and caressed the side of her face, then threaded his fingers through her still-damp hair. "Mara, I..." He took a deep breath. "I..."

A shiver ran through Mara as she waited for him to finish his sentence. Was he going to say he loved her? And how would she answer?

Luke felt Mara tremble in his arms. "You're cold. I need to go get more firewood." He pulled back from her embrace. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

_Now?__ You have to stop RIGHT NOW and go play chivalrous knight?_ Mara pushed him away none too gently. "Fine," she bit out, not allowing herself to look at his face.

As Luke bent to pick up the log carrier, Mara squatted down and began rummaging through the few remaining pieces of wood next to the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, doing his best not to upset her more than he apparently already had.

"I want to start a fire in the stove in the 'fresher, and I need some short pieces."

Luke grabbed up three fair-sized logs, set them on end, whipped out his lightsaber and cut them neatly in half. "Do you want me to help you start the fire?"

"No!" she bristled. Mara felt hot enough to start one by spontaneous combustion. How could he start to say some momentous statement of how he felt, finally, and then just _stop_! And why was this upsetting her so much, when his unexpected confession of being solely responsible for her being on this mission had invoked just the opposite reaction in her?

Luke stared at her as she grabbed up the truncated firewood. "I'll be right back," he repeated, not surprised when he didn't receive a reply.

Mara straightened up and blew out a breath as she heard the door close behind him. _Relax, Mara. You're nervous; he's nervous._ _You both need to relax._ Mara willed herself to calm down, and a satisfied little smile appeared on her face. Yes, they needed to relax, and she knew the perfect way to do just that.

* * *

**Well, what did you think of the villagers so far? I was patterning them a little after the villagers in Brigadoon. Hopefully not _too_ silly. wink**


	5. Chapter 5

**Jedi-Princess, Mara look-a-like, Calli1:** Thanks!

**Amanda: **_How long will they be stuck on the planet?_ Too long. Long enough. :p

**Random-idiot:** Better watch that cough. And proceed with caution in this next chapter. Could be one of those adult scenes. Sort of.

**Here we go ― what everyone has been waiting for. Or maybe not.**

**

* * *

**

**A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Five**

As Luke plodded down the steep staircase, he realized that he wasn't sure what he had been about to announce to Mara. '_I don't_ _want us to ever be apart'? 'I'll get us out of here'?_ Or had he been ready to utter _'I want to make love to you,' _or simply _'I love you'_? He was a trained Jedi and a war hero, but he turned into a stammering fool when it came to matters of the heart. No wonder Mara's temper was so unpredictable. One moment he's flirting worse than Lando, and the next he can barely look her in the eye without his nerves being tied in knots. Luke could feel that pendulum swinging back out again, and he had the distinct feeling it was all his fault.

So engrossed was Luke in his self-deprecating musings that the normally nimble-footed Jedi nearly stumbled when a voice boomed at the bottom of the steps.

"So ye finally made it down here." Merta glanced at the worn log carrier clutched in his hand. "I see ye've come for the wood first. Come along, then, lad."

Merta directed Luke to a lean-to shelter attached to the back of the building. Firewood was stacked only about a meter high. "As ye can see, I'll be needin' to get more wood cut soon. We go through a lot this time o' year."

Luke paused as he was filling the leather carrier. "Would you like me to cut some wood for you tomorrow? I need to do some kind of tasks, to pay you back for your generosity."

"Aye, that would be appreciated..., Luke, is it?"

He nodded affirmatively. "Yes, Luke Skywalker."

Luke continued filling the carrier with assorted pieces of firewood, then paused and looked questioningly at Merta. "Is this sufficient to last the night?" he asked, gesturing toward his load. "I want to make sure it stays warm enough for Mara."

Merta smiled at his unabashed concern for his roommate. "Aye, that should be plenty." As Luke straightened up, she added. "Ye should sleep on the side o' the bed near the wall, so she'll be closer to the fire."

Luke started to object to Merta's obvious assumption that he and Mara would both be sleeping in the room's lone bed, but she held up a hand to silence him.

"Hold her close, lad," the motherly figure said with a smile, "and ye'll both stay warm tonight."

Luke simply nodded, not feeling up to trying to explain his and Mara's unusual relationship. He wasn't sure he even could.

"Come back down after ye unload yer wood, and I'll have some supper ready for ye."

"All right, thank you."

―――――

When Luke returned to the attic, Mara was bustling with activity. Luke watched as she exited the refresher, carrying a full bucket of water. With a small towel, she removed one of a pair of steaming pails that hung suspended over the fire and replaced it with the new bucket, then retreated with the hot water back to the refresher.

"What's all this?" Luke called to her, as he could hear a squeaking, pumping noise coming from her direction.

"Just heating water so we can wash up," she explained as she passed him, repeating her previous actions with a second bucket.

Luke started to ask if she needed help, just out of habit, but stopped himself. He had a feeling that if she wanted him to assist, he would have already heard the instructions.

"Guess I'll go get us some food now," he went on, stepping out of the way as she swept back toward the refresher.

"Fine," she returned over her shoulder.

Luke once more descended the narrow stairway, deep in thought. _At least she's still talking to me._

―――――

As Luke entered their room with a stack of clothes and their dinner, he could detect a sense of relaxation coming from Mara, but didn't see her in the bedroom. Setting the meal portion of his load down, he knocked lightly on the refresher door. "Mara?"

"Come in," he heard her call. Cautiously he opened the door, then froze when he spotted her. Mara was sitting in the bathtub, soap bubbles up to her neck and head resting on the back edge of the tub. She had the most peaceful look on her face that Luke had ever seen.

"Well, come on in," she repeated, not opening her eyes. "You've seen me in more revealing positions than this."

Luke quietly entered, wishing he hadn't disturbed her. "I... uh... brought us a change of clothes for tomorrow, and Merta also sent something for us to sleep in tonight."

Mara opened one eye as he set her garments on a nearby stool.

"There's also some dinner for us, in the outer room," Luke continued, nodding toward the doorway.

"It'll keep awhile longer," Mara murmured. "Ahhh..." she sighed, sinking a little lower in the water. "Oh, Luke, this is so wonderful."

She looked up at him, smiling. "You're welcome to join me. I could make room for you in here," she invited teasingly, hoping for a compliant reaction.

What she got was a rather flustered look. "The water would overflow," he blurted out.

"We can dip some of it out," she countered.

"It doesn't look like there's enough room," he objected.

"Just be that much cozier," Mara rejoined, trying to hide her disappointment that he was making excuses. She looked up at him as he stepped closer to her, then followed his face downward as he knelt next to the tub.

"I don't think that would be a very good idea," he said quietly, his face a mask of seriousness as he stared into her eyes.

Mara swallowed, breaking eye contact with him and wishing she could take back her flirtatious offer. "No, I guess not," she muttered.

Luke gave her a weak smile, and exited the refresher.

Once back in the bedroom, Luke leaned against the wall, eyes closed and heart pounding. _What is wrong with you, Skywalker? She was offering... Stars, what was she offering? Companionship? Or more? Are you so scared it would be more?_

―――――

As soon as Luke left, Mara gripped the sides of the tub and let out a deep breath. _What in the worlds has come over you, Jade? What if he'd said yes? You know perfectly well what being in this tub with him could lead to. Are you prepared to take that next step? Sith, no, you're not!_

Mara picked up a nearby washcloth and, with mechanical motions, began to bathe herself. But she no longer felt any pleasure in her watery oasis.

―――――

Luke finally pushed away from the wall and tossed a few more pieces of wood into the fireplace. Sitting on the floor, he watched the dancing flames. How long could the two of them keep up this up-and-down gravicoaster ride? It was bad enough that his emotions were bouncing all over the place. Now her attitude toward him was shifting gears with every turn. Was he supposed to be able to figure out how to react to her? Trying to decipher Mara's mood swings was like trying to anticipate the erratic moves of a charging Kalli beast. Guess wrong, and you may not live to regret it.

For a brief moment, Luke wished Han was around to consult with, then quickly dismissed the thought. Whatever his relationship with Mara was turning into, it was not something he needed Han ribbing him about.

Luke stared into the red-gold tongues of fire, mesmerized by the way they reminded him of Mara's hair. He flinched slightly as a soft hand touched his shoulder. "Your turn," was all she said.

Mara sat down next to him, but didn't look in his direction.

"Thanks," Luke croaked, trying to find his voice. He rose and looked down at her huddled figure. She was wearing the sleeping shift from Merta, and had it pulled down over her knees, which were drawn up to her chin. It seemed to him that she was as nervous and confused as he was.

"Your dinner is in there," he continued, pointing to a wicker basket.

"All right," she replied, not looking up.

Luke went into the refresher and bathed quickly, not enjoying it nearly as much as he thought he should. It was the first time he'd been in a bathtub since... the Emperor's palace. Reflecting further, he realized it was the first time he'd ever been in a tub alone.

Dressed only in a pair of borrowed sleep pants, he went back out into the bedroom and found Mara sitting in exactly the same position as when he left. Their dinners sat untouched.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Luke said.

At the sound of his voice, she stirred from her reverie. "You waited," she pointed out. "Besides, I don't like to eat alone."

_Since when?_ thought Luke. She seemed to prefer solitude, from what he could tell in the time he'd known her.

"Well, I'm nearly starved, so let's see what we've got here." Luke pulled away the heavy towels that covered their two bowls.

Mara perked up finally, reaching into the basket for the covered jars that contained their drinks. "You're always nearly starved," she joked before taking a sip of the cool, creamy milk.

"I'm a growing boy," Luke countered, glad for her latest mood shift. "Some kind of stew. Smells good."

"Hmm," Mara agreed. She accepted her portion from Luke and took a bite. "Tastes good, too, whatever it is."

They ate in silence for awhile, Mara realizing she had been just as famished as Luke.

"What do you think our chances of finding a new stabilizer are?" she eventually asked.

Luke swallowed his mouthful before replying. "On a scale of one to ten? About negative two."

Mara nodded in agreement, her mouth full again. After taking a drink, she continued. "I don't hold out much hope for a communications station, either. I haven't seen any evidence of technology anywhere."

She took another bite, with a drink to wash it down. "How can people live like this?"

"Oh, I don't know, Mara." Luke smiled. "It's peaceful here. No airspeeders buzzing past. Birds chirping instead of comlinks. I could get used to this."

"Keep that in mind when we're still stuck here a month from now," Mara humphed, then instantly regretted reminding him of their being stranded.

But Luke seemed to have gotten past his feelings of guilt, at least for the time being. "You've never been to Dagobah," he said with a laugh. "I'll admit I've no desire to discover a snake or lizard sharing my seat. But this is a refreshing change of pace."

"But how... how is it they are so uncivilized here?"

"Everyone seemed pretty civilized to me."

"You know what I mean." Mara scowled. "It's like they've never had any contact with how the rest of the galaxy lives." She waved her spoon at him. "And how is it they speak Basic? Answer me that, bright boy."

"I don't know, Mara." Luke sighed. "Maybe we'll get some answers tomorrow."

A strained silence fell as they finished their meal, neither of them ready to broach the subject of bedtime. Setting her empty dish aside, Mara finally decided if she didn't take the plunge, they might end up sitting in the same spot all night.

"I suppose we should get to bed," she began tentatively. "We'll surely have a busy day tomorrow." Mara rose, but Luke remained sitting. "You coming?"

"I'll just sleep here on the floor," he murmured, not budging from his cross-legged position.

"No, you won't," Mara objected with a frown. "You're just as tired as I am, and we both deserve a comfortable bed after sleeping in a cockpit and on the ground for the past four nights."

"I'll be fine," he insisted. "There's extra quilts over there," he went on, nodding toward a rack in the corner.

Mara grabbed his upper arm, tugging on him to rise. "Skywalker, it's a big bed. We're adults; we can share it."

"Mara...," he whined, shaking his head even as he allowed himself to be pulled upright.

"It won't be any different than when we slept together in your suite." She cupped his chin with her hand, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Right?"

"Right?" she repeated, as he pulled back from her hold and reluctantly circled around to climb into the far side of the bed.

"Right," Luke whispered under his breath. _No different at all._

―――――

Luke lay on his back, watching the dancing patterns of firelight playing out on the ceiling. He was doing his best to keep his mind on the obligations he felt were his sole responsibility on this mission. _I need to get that blasted B-wing repaired. I need to get us off this planet and on our way to Lorrd. I need to get a message back to Coruscant. I need... _Lukecould hear Mara turning over restlessly. _I need to take her in my arms and cover her with kisses..._

―――

Mara could tell Luke was still awake. Outwardly, he was lying perfectly still. But inwardly, she could feel his Force sense twitching as agitatedly as hers was. Hugging her pillow tightly, Mara turned to face the warm fire, wishing she could draw more comfort from the flickering flames. _Do other couples have this much trouble with their emotions? And at what point did I start thinking of Luke and me as a 'couple'?_

―――

Luke rolled over wearily, sleep still eluding him. He listened to the crackling of the flames, the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. He thought back to the previous night. No, it hadn't been a dream. She _had_ come to him. And she had returned his kisses. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, again and again. He wanted it so badly he could taste it ― could taste her lips, smell the scent of her hair. She was driving him mad with desire, and she wasn't even touching him.

An inner voice mocked Luke's every thought. _If you want her so much, why didn't you get in the blasted bathtub with her? Because you're a coward, that's why. A Sith-forsaken coward. You love her, don't you? If you don't have the guts to tell her how you feel, then quit leading her on. Let her go... Let her go..._

"NO!" Luke sat bolt upright in bed. "I can't do that!"

Mara rose up, instantly sweeping her surroundings with the Force. "Luke, what is it?" She didn't sense any danger nearby, but Luke's emotions were a swirling mass of turmoil. "What's wrong?"

He pulled up his knees, and buried his face in his hands. "I can't, Mara," he said shakily.

"Can't what?" Mara fought the fear that threatened to rise in her throat. _What was he going to say? That he couldn't return her feelings? How could he even know what her feelings were, when she had trouble admitting them to herself?_

"I should really sleep on the floor," was all that he could manage to get out, ignoring her question. He started to edge his way out of bed, but Mara grabbed his arm.

"Skywalker, what is wrong with you!"

His voice was nearly breaking, and he didn't turn around as he attempted to put his feelings into words. "I... can't... lie this close to you and not... not..."

Mara sat up in bed, and tugged on his arm until he turned to face her. She could see the pain reflected on his face by the wavering flames in the fireplace. "Luke," she murmured soothingly, struggling to keep her voice calm as she latched onto his hand. "Talk to me. You know you can share anything with me." She braced herself, determined to accept whatever he had to say.

Luke took a deep breath and spoke slowly, his eyes locked on their joined hands. "During all my training, I was taught over and over to trust my feelings. And right now, my feelings are telling me, screaming at me, that I am... desperately... in love with you." He fell silent. His impromptu confession had surprised even himself. But for better or worse, he knew he had spoken the truth.

A feeling of ecstatic amazement flooded through Mara as she scooted closer to him, searching in her heart for the right phrases to express her own hidden emotions. All doubt as to what those emotions were vanished in a heartbeat. This was the most important moment of their lives; they had to be completely honest with themselves and with one another. How could she convince this man how much he meant to her? She reached up and gently caressed his cheek.

"Luke," she began softly. "Ever since I met you, actually met you, in that prison cell, you have been a beacon of light and hope to me. After Palpatine, I thought all I wanted was to be independent, to not let myself be emotionally attached to anyone. But the more time I spend with you, the more I know that I never want to be apart from you. Ever." She looked deeply into his azure eyes. "I love you, Luke Skywalker. I need you with me. I need you to love me."

The anxiety that had been gripping Luke's heart was suddenly replaced by joyous relief, and he unknowingly released a pent-up breath. Smiling more broadly than he ever had in his life, he brought his own hands up and cupped her face. "I do love you, Mara Jade. I love you so much..."

Their lips abruptly met in a passionate kiss, their hands clutching at each other in the unburdening of their mutually suppressed yearnings. Luke drew her down into the softness of the feather mattress, the feeling of her lithe body beneath his intensifying his cravings. His hand stroked her tender neck and shoulder, and he marveled at the silkiness of her skin. Mara could feel the tightening of his muscles across his strong back, and a wave of nervousness cut into her deepening desire.

"Luke," she whispered into his ear. He lifted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue. "Before we go any further, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?" He gently encouraged her to go on, easily sensing her anxiety.

"I've... never... actually been with a man before, not like this."

Luke rose up on one elbow, a look of astonishment crossing his face. "You've... never... had sex? Mara, I never dreamed... I just assumed..."

"What? You think I'm some kind of trollop? That I sleep around?" Her face contorted in sudden anger.

"No, no! I would never think that," he hurried to assure her. Luke fell back on his own pillow, and began laughing quietly.

"What in blazes is so funny?" Mara began pounding his chest with her fists, tears starting to run down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I'm not as experienced as you are."

He seized her wrists and pulled her down close to him. Reaching up, he gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "Believe me, Mara, you are."

At her incredulous look, he went on. "You have _exactly_ the same amount of experience as I do."

"You mean... you never either?"

Luke shook his head, a rather abashed smile crossing his face.

"Are you sure?"

"Mara, I think I'd remember!"

Mara's frown was turning into a relieved grin. "Well, it seems everyone here is wrong ― we make a fine pair!" She stroked his face softly, just making out his sparkling eyes in the fire's soft glow. "So now what?"

"What'd you mean, now what?" Luke chuckled. "I haven't lost the desire!"

Mara scrambled atop him, quickly covering his mouth with hers. Her glossy hair fell down around them, obscuring both their faces. Luke's hands roamed up and down her back, causing her to squirm that much more.

Abruptly, Mara raised her head and pecked a light kiss on the tip of his nose. "So, when were you going to tell me?" she questioned, an amused glint in her eyes. "Or were you just going to bluff your way through?"

"I guess I wasn't thinking that far ahead," he admitted, laughing. "And it's not the kind of thing a guy just blurts out. I'm not as brave as you, remember."

"Don't you forget it!"

Mara once more lowered her head, and Luke eagerly captured her lips with his own. Clutching her tightly, he rolled them over so that he once more held the dominant position. As he gazed into her expectant face, her words began echoing in his head_. Were you just going to bluff your way through? Bluff your way through... Bluff your way... _The sound of Mara's voice suddenly morphed into his own nagging conscience. _Are you sure you're ready for this, Skywalker? For a guy who's been dragging his feet for months, you're moving awfully fast. This is a big step for both of you. Are you giving Mara the consideration she deserves? _

"Luke?" Mara watched the emotion in his smoky eyes swirling, changing. What was he thinking? Was he as nervous as she was? Were they actually going to do this? Right now? Was she ready? Her mind jeered at any attempts to make sense of her vacillating feelings. _You weren't ready when you brazenly invited him into the tub with you. What makes you think you're ready now?_

An image of his aunt and uncle suddenly popped into Luke's brain, his uncle's gruff words tauntingly accurate. _The boy's always too impatient... Never stops to think things through... Never remembers what we've taught him..._

"I remember," Luke mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

Luke didn't answer right away, but instead slid off to her side. Gently he ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back away from her face.

"Mara," he whispered slowly. Mara's anxiety mounted as she studied the intense look on his face. "I..." His voice faltered as he bit his bottom lip.

Mara traced one finger along his jawline. "Yes?" she said, encouraging him to continue.

"Mara, since we've both waited this long, do you think we could wait just a little while longer?" He glanced at her, trying to decipher her bewildered expression.

And bewildered she was. Did he know what she had been thinking? A flash of indignation flared through her ― resentment that he had intruded into her thoughts. But the spark quickly vanished. She hadn't felt him enter her mind. She could feel the yearning coursing through him, but it had been tempered somehow, muted into something more solemn and less impulsive.

Summoning his courage, Luke continued. "I love you, Mara. And as much as my body would like to satisfy these rising urges this very moment, I want you to know this is not a passing infatuation for me. When we make love, it will be the beginning of a beautiful journey of discovery for both of us." He paused to take a breath. "I would like to begin that journey with you first becoming my wife." He looked at her intently, waiting to gauge her reaction.

Mara stared at him in a mixture of wonder and relief. He was proposing! To say that she was astounded would be putting it mildly. Without a doubt, she had found the most honorable man in the galaxy, and he_ loved_ her! He loved _her_! And he wanted to marry her! How could she possibly be worthy of him? Noticing the anxious look in his eyes, she knew she had to say something.

"Oh, my stars," she breathed. No, that wasn't what she meant to say. _Jade, you're going to worry him to death. Just say what's in your heart._

"Luke," she began again, stroking his face in reassurance. "I love you, and I long to feel your body beside mine. You are so special to me, and I want our first time together to be equally special, no matter when it occurs." She kissed him lightly. "I would be honored to begin our journey together by having you as my husband."

Luke's mouth widened in a joyous smile, relief pouring through him. Without a doubt, he had to be the luckiest man in the galaxy. Maybe he was moving fast, in another direction, but he had no regrets whatsoever.

"And as far as waiting goes..." Mara gave him a mischievous look. "You know how I like a good challenge, especially when it involves you. I can hold out as long as you can."

Luke pulled her close, nuzzling her neck then moving to kiss her passionately. Consuming desire once more threatened to overtake them both.

(Just don't make it too long a wait,) Mara sent, deepening their kiss.

(You don't have to worry about that,) Luke returned. He finally pulled back, settling into his pillow and hugging her closely. "As soon as we get out of this blasted nebula and the comm works again, I may call ahead to have a magistrar ready."

Mara nestled her head into the crook of his neck. "Better have him waiting at the docking bay, Farmboy."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you, thank you to my faithful reviewers: Mara look-a-like, Calli1, Jedi Princess, and random idiot. I appreciate it!**

**At last, you get to see what Han and Leia have been up to.**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge **

**Chapter Six**

"Hey, Your Worshipfulness! Wait up!"

Leia Organa turned at the sound of the familiar voice ― a voice that now brought a smile to her face instead of a scowl. She leaned her head back to receive a discreet kiss.

"How was your trip?" Leia asked, as she slipped her hand around Han's arm.

"Hmmm, delivered the supplies to Bimmisaari, as ordered. Dropped Chewie off at Kashyyyk for a visit with his family. Brought back a load of Wookiee-designed ship parts. All in all, it was... boring as hell."

"And... did you miss me?" Leia gave him a private little smirk as they turned a corner in the wide corridor leading to the New Republic's offices.

"'Course I did," Han responded, with his best lop-sided grin. "I don't know how Chewie does it. If I ever get married ― and mind you, I have no such plans ― I could never leave my wife for long stretches like he does."

"Is that so?" Leia raised one delicate eyebrow. "If I were ever to marry ― not that I have such plans either ― I would never let my husband go away for long periods of time."

"Glad we're in agreement," Han whispered, leaning over for another kiss, until a pair of high-ranking officials passing by prompted Leia to gently push him upright.

"Well, you haven't missed anything here," Leia continued the conversation. "A half dozen planets have petitioned for membership in the New Republic, with a day's worth of meetings for each one."

"All right, you win. You've had a more boring week than I have." Han gave Leia's hand a warm squeeze as she clutched his arm. "Speaking of new member planets, how's your brother doing on his first recruitment mission?"

"Actually, I haven't heard a thing about the mission since Mon Mothma first mentioned it, which was before Luke even knew. In fact, I'm on my way to see her now. Hopefully he's reported in."

"You didn't talk to him before he left?"

"No, I didn't have a chance." Leia frowned regretfully. "I was out late the evening before, meeting with a delegation from Obroa-Skai, as I recall. And he was up and gone when I awoke the next morning."

"Was he even home the night before he left?" Han snickered. "Perhaps he had someone more important to say goodbye to."

"Now, Han, don't go jumping to conclusions."

"Has the ice maiden been acting lonely without him?"

"Haven't seen her. But then, I didn't expect to. You know she keeps to herself when Luke's not around." Leia paused before the ornate door they had reached. "Here we are."

―――――

Mon Mothma rose as Han and Leia entered. "Good morning, Leia. And welcome back, General Solo. I'm glad you returned in time to hear this also."

"Hear this?" Leia questioned, as she and Han took a seat.

"Yes. We received a transmission from Regent Ke'lor of Lorrd a short time ago."

"Don't tell me the kid's got 'em to join up already!" Han grinned lazily.

Mon Mothma gave him a cool stare. "I'm afraid Commander Skywalker hasn't arrived on Lorrd yet."

"What!" Leia scooted forward on the edge of her seat. "But he should have gotten there four days ago!"

"Exactly. The Lorrdians did receive a garbled transmission from him, the day before his scheduled arrival."

Mon Mothma switched on an audio recording. "There's quite a bit of static, coming from the commander's end." She leaned back to listen, along with Leia and Han.

_"This ... mander Luke ... walker of the New ... lic ... vise Re ... Ke'lor ... I ... detained ... ship malfu ..."_

_"Please repeat, Commander. Your transmission is breaking up." _

_"...peat, this ... Comm ... Skywalker ... Repub... ... advise ... Ke' ... be delay..."_ There was a noticeable pause in the recording before it continued. _"sev ... ten days ... malfunction ... send ... apol ... copy?"_

_"Acknowledged, Commander Skywalker.__ Lorrd Spaceport out."_

_"... kywalk ..., out."_

"That's it?" Han was the first to speak. "And the Lorrdians just now decided to tell us about this?"

"Regent Ke'lor assumed we already knew," Mon Mothma replied calmly. "He only contacted us now to see if we've heard anything further from the commander, but unfortunately, we have not." She clasped her hands tightly. "All our attempts to contact them have gone unanswered."

A puzzled frown appeared on Leia's face. "What do you mean by 'contact them'? I thought you sent Luke by himself."

"He didn't tell you?" It was the New Republic leader's turn to appear confused. "He took his apprentice with him."

"What apprentice?" Han and Leia blurted out simultaneously.

Mon Mothma looked back and forth between the two of them. "Miss Jade, of course."

A wide grin split Han's face. "He told you Mara Jade was his apprentice?" he said with a snort, before jerking to meet Leia's warning stare as she kicked him with her foot.

Mon Mothma's frown deepened. "Are you saying she is not? Leia?"

"They do share... I mean, he is sharing with her his knowledge of the Force." Leia tried to smooth things over. "I was unaware he had taken her as a formal student."

"I would think you would know better than anyone." The stately woman gave Leia a pointed stare, though her voice remained even.

"I don't get involved in my brother's personal affairs," Leia bit out hesitantly. _What in the galaxy was Luke up to? _

"Are you saying his connection to her is of a personal nature?" Mon Mothma continued her questioning.

"She's saying what the kid does in his spare time is his own business," Han interjected, ignoring Leia's 'stay out of this' look.

Mon Mothma drew a deep breath. "I don't mean to pry into anyone's private life, but this concerns a valuable trade negotiation. The Lorrdians insisted they would meet only with Jedi. If he has jeopardized..." She trailed off as she rose from her seat, placing her palms flat on her desk. "I'll ask you once more, is Mara Jade training to be a Jedi Knight, or are she and Commander Skywalker only involved in a romantic tryst?"

Han balled his fists in frustration and glanced aside at Leia, who was gripping the armrests of her chair. Leia finally spoke for the both of them. "We're not sure."

Mon Mothma sat back down with a sigh. "I see."

"Aren't we missing the real issue here?" Leia continued. "What happened to Luke and Mara? Where are they? What kind of trouble did they have?"

"You're right, of course," the leader conceded. "Their safety should be our first concern."

Leia glanced first at Han, then turned to her superior. "I want to go looking for them." She looked again at Han, as if entreating his help. "He's four days overdue. We should leave right away."

Han shook his head slowly. "Hold on, Leia. We have no evidence they're in any danger. Luke simply said he'd be delayed."

"He said he had a ship malfunction," the princess countered.

"Which apparently he thought he could handle. You know Luke's handy at all kinds of ship repair." Han frowned to himself, then looked at Mon Mothma. "What are they in, a shuttle? Or did you give Jade an X-wing to match Luke's?"

"Miss Jade is not authorized to pilot an Alliance craft," came the reply.

"So a shuttle then. Now—"

The New Republic leader's quiet voice interrupted Han's conjecturing. "They are traveling in one of the newly modified B-wings."

"A B-wing?" Leia questioned, conjuring up the image in her mind.

"It was the only two-seat craft available, and Commander Skywalker has logged adequate training hours in one," Mon Mothma explained patiently.

"But you expected them to spend the entire trip crammed together in one of those tiny cockpits?" Han exclaimed. The thought suddenly crossed his mind that Luke's 'ship trouble' could be that by the second day he'd killed the fiery redhead, and had to detour to dispose of the body. Though knowing Jade's temper, it seemed more likely to happen the other way around. Han looked at Leia, wondering if she were having the same thoughts as he was. They'd both witnessed more than one spat between the two Force users.

"I don't think that should be a problem for a Jedi..., or his apprentice," the serene leader responded smoothly, cutting short his musings.

"Luke does go on longer trips than that in his X-wing," Leia conceded aloud.

_Yeah, but Artoo doesn't talk back ― much,_ Han thought. "All right, all right." He held up his hands in resignation. "I'm just glad I've got the _Falcon_, where I can get up and stretch my legs."

Leia stood and began pacing, then turned back to Han. "How familiar is Luke with B-wing repair? Han, I still think we should go looking for them. They could be stranded who knows where."

"Or they could have set down somewhere to make repairs."

"Which shouldn't prevent them from answering a comm transmission," Leia countered.

"Maybe the comm is part of what's wrong." When Leia began to object again, Han continued. "Maybe... we should let the kid take care of himself."

"But..." Leia still couldn't bring herself to just sit and do nothing.

"Leia," Han admonished gently. "Luke doesn't need us running after him anymore." He raised one eyebrow as he gazed at her worried face. "Do you _feel_ that he's in trouble?"

Leia paused, then slowly shook her head. "No, but..."

"Leia, I know you're concerned about your brother," Mon Mothma began, "but I believe you should listen to General Solo. From the transmission, it sounded like Luke thought he would be up to ten days late. He still has several days left of that time frame. And the Lorrdians stated they are willing to wait."

"All right." Leia gave in with a sigh. "But if they've not arrived at the end of those ten days..."

"Then we'll go looking," Han promised.

* * *

Morning sunshine broke through the attic room's two glass-paned windows, brighter than ever as it reflected off the snow on nearby rooftops and subsequently awakened the room's sleepy occupants. Occupants whose limbs seemed irreversibly entwined.

Mara gingerly opened one eye, silently cursing the daylight that assaulted her. "It can't be morning already."

"It's not," came a muffled murmur near her ear.

Mara threw back the covers and poked her bedmate with her knee. "We should get up. You said Merta only serves breakfast for an hour after daybreak. Force knows how long the sun's been up already."

Luke groaned, pulling a pillow over his head in protest.

"Aren't you hungry?" Mara persisted, knowing what an appetite he always seemed to have.

Luke finally opened both eyes. Raising himself on one elbow, his gaze raked up and down her nightgown-clad body, devouring her delectable Force aura that was threatening to overwhelm him. "Starved," he breathed.

Mara felt herself falling under his spell. She suddenly shook herself, then reached out and gave her new fiancé a not-so-gentle shove. Luke landed on the floor with a hard thump and a loud 'oomph!'

"Hey! Is that any way to treat the man you love?"

Mara scooted to the edge of the bed and peered down at her victim. "It is when that man starts getting ideas he shouldn't be acting on yet."

Still sprawled on the floor, Luke stretched his limbs, shaking off the last remnants of sleep. _Now she was going to start listening to him?_ He hopped up effortlessly, grinning broadly. "Since you won't let me have breakfast in bed..."

"Aagghh!" Mara flopped back onto the bed.

"...I guess we'll just have to go down to the dining chamber." With an apologetic smile, Luke held out one hand.

Mara gave him a cool stare, then reached out and took his proffered grasp, protesting out of habit as he pulled her into a warm embrace. Her protest soon melted into a passionate kiss.

"Welcome to day one of our betrothal pledge," Luke whispered in her ear.

Pulling away reluctantly, Mara made her way into the refresher, quickly pumping a bowl of cold water to splash on her face and putting on the clothes Luke had brought the evening before. When she emerged, she found Luke had donned a pair of heavy trousers and dark woven shirt.

"You're changed already?" she questioned, looking him over.

"I'm speedy," he quipped with a grin. "Besides, it was cold out here without anyone to keep me warm."

Mara shook her head in mock exasperation, then proceeded to wrinkle her nose as she fingered the heavy ankle-length skirt that was part of her own ensemble. "How much did you have to do with picking out these clothes?"

"I might have given my approval. Why? Don't you like them?"

"I'm grateful to have clean clothes, but..., well, they don't exactly look my style, or Merta's size."

Luke laughed. "I think she said they belonged to her daughter, who left them when she married and moved to another village." He busied himself rolling up his shirt's cuffs. "I got her late husband's things. He must have been taller than me."

"Farmboy, everybody is taller—" She stopped when she saw his frown.

Luke shook his head, then headed for his turn in the refresher.

Mara bent to pull on the animal-hide boots that she'd been loaned, wiggling her left ankle experimentally in the process. So the Jedi's healing techniques did work after all. "At least I won't need—" She paused in her mutterings, looking around the room. "Hmmm. Now where...?"

Mara pursed her lips in thought, then strode boldly into the refresher. "Luke, I can't see—"

Luke was just buttoning up his trousers. "That's because I'm too quick for you."

"That's not―!"

He reached out and grabbed the finger she was wagging at him. "I know. I distinctly remember your saying not till we're married."

Mara narrowed her eyes dangerously. "How did this get turned around to me being the one who wanted to wait?"

"Because I'll never admit to proposing anything that ludicrous." They stared at each other, then burst out laughing.

"Skywalker, your sense of humor hasn't improved since the day I met you."

"Must be your cheery influence."

"Just for that, I'm holding you to this little promise we made, no matter how much you beg."

"Then I'll make an additional promise." He kissed her lightly. "I promise to do my very best to make our wedding night worth the wait."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she returned, as they renewed their kiss. "But contrary to your shameless presumption, I did not come in here to steal a peek at you."

Luke raised an eyebrow questioningly, an expression of feigned disappointment animating his face.

"I can't _seem_ to remember where I left my walking stick."

Luke's jovial demeanor instantly turned to one of concern. "Is your ankle still bothering you?"

"No, not at all. I just..." She shook her head dismissively. "Never mind."

"Just got sentimentally attached to a stick?" Luke never tired of the perilous game of baiting Mara.

"Bite your tongue!" she snapped back reflexively. "I just... just didn't want anyone to trip over it."

"Sure, dear, anything you say," Luke returned, humoring her with his best smirk. He sobered slightly in the face of her glare, and retraced their steps in his mind. "I think you left it outside the door of the pub last night. I can look this morning, if you like."

"No, don't bother. I don't need it anymore."

"Of course you don't," Luke agreed quickly, puffing out his chest. "Now you have me to lean on."

"Why you—!"

Luke beat a hasty retreat out of the refresher, his laughter permeating Mara's grumbling as she vowed to keep him away from any further influence of Han Solo's arrogant behavior.

―――――

Sounds of dishes clattering and voices chattering greeted the pair as they entered the large dining chamber. Half a dozen guests still sat around the large wooden table, most nursing a cup of hot liquid that smelled suspiciously like caf.

A wry grin spread across Merta's face as she spotted the newcomers.

"Aye, here be the thumpers now!"

Hands tightly clasped, Luke and Mara stopped short and stared as all eyes focused on them.

"Excuse me?" Luke managed to squeak out.

"Madam Rosella here," Merta nodded at an elderly white-haired woman who sat smiling at them, "an' her husband have the room right below yers. She was sayin' that just 'fore she came down fer breakfast, she heard a loud thump on her ceiling."

"Oh, that." Mara waved a hand indifferently as she pulled Luke to a pair of empty seats. "That was just Luke falling out of bed."

"You pushed... me..." he corrected, trailing off as he realized he alone was now the center of attention. "I didn't fall," he added in a low mumble as he accepted a bowl of some kind of porridge from Merta.

(Your cheeks are turning a nice shade of pink,) Mara sent with glee, as she dug into her own breakfast portion.

A white-haired gentleman, who turned out to be Madam Rosella's husband, took pity on Luke and turned the conversation to making introductions around the table. As expected, no one had heard of the 'tiny village' of Coruscant, now explained as being at the other edge of the great sea, beyond the adjacent mountain range.

When Luke finished his second helping of the warm porridge, he rose and picked up his empty bowl. "Where should I put this?" he asked their hostess.

"Oh, let it be, lad," Merta told him. "I'm sure yer lass won't mind helpin' with the clean-up, as part of yer offer to work off yer keep."

Mara blanched noticeably, but to her credit, her voice remained calm as she acquiesced. "No, of course not."

Luke gave her a sly wink as he pushed his chair back. "I need to see the metalcrafter this morning," he said to Merta, "but I'll be back as soon as I can to cut firewood for you. Did you say you had an old coat I could borrow?"

"Aye, indeed, lad." Merta hurried away, then returned with a heavy brown woolen coat, obviously another relic of her late husband. She went on to give Luke directions to Hiley's shop, located at the far end of Zembuhl.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Mara arched one eyebrow expectantly from her seat as Luke finished buttoning the coat and started to head for the door.

He hesitated, then crossed the room and bending down, kissed her on the cheek.

Mara laughed lightly. "I meant, don't you need to get the broken rod to take with you." She gave him a wry smirk. "But that was nice too."

Luke rolled his eyes in exasperation before redirecting his steps toward the stairs, hoping his face would cooperate and stay a neutral color this time.

Mara's gaze turned from following Luke's retreating back, and was immediately confronted with the happily beaming face of her landlady.

"I'm guessin' he managed to keep ye warm all night, heh?" Merta didn't even try to hide her amusement at Mara's discomfort.

"We were fine," she muttered, her eyes now glued to the last remnants of breakfast she was poking at.

The two remaining men at the table soon excused themselves, leaving only the handful of women. Mara started to gather up the empty dishes, but Merta gestured for her to remain sitting.

"We'll have plenty o' time to be workin' soon enough, lass," she commented, as she poured everyone another cup of hot refreshment. Mara found she rather liked the tangy, woody taste of the dark brew.

The topic of discussion soon turned to the Winter Festival, set to begin at noon that very day.

"Aye, 'tis a grand celebration," Merta was explaining proudly to Mara, her voice rising excitedly. "We'll be havin' games and contests, and shows with dancin' and jugglin', and so many different sweets to eat, ye won't know what to sample first. On the last night, there be a huge feast in the Fellowship Hall, where everyone gives thanks fer the blessins' o' the past year, and asks the Divine One to watch o'er us agin in the comin' year."

"Who's the lucky couple bein' bonded this year?" Rosella asked. "Anyone I know?"

Merta's face fell noticeably. "Ah, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidins'." She looked around at her guests. "There'll not be a bondin' this year."

Collective gasps of dismay echoed in the room.

"No!" a younger woman cried.

"Oh, my!" Rosella covered her mouth in consternation.

"Aye," Merta continued. "'Tis a sad thing, to be sure. We'll just have to weather through this season, and hope we have a bondin' next year."

Mara's curiosity got the best of her. "What's this bonding?"

All heads turned her way.

"Ye don't know what a bondin' is?" asked a dark-haired matron in apparent amazement. "You're not bonded to yer young man?"

"You mean married? No."

The other women did not appear judgmental; on the contrary, knowing smiles appeared on their faces. Mara ignored their expressions, and pressed on. "So you usually have a wedding during the festival?"

"Aye," Merta answered first. "On the last day. But we have no couples pledged to marry this year." Seeing the puzzlement on Mara's face, she continued. "A bondin' of a man and woman brings good fortune to our village fer the comin' year. The truer their love, the more bountiful a harvest we have. Ye don't have such a custom in yer own village?"

Mara shook her head. It was too late to change her story now. "No. We... uh... have other rituals to ensure a successful harvest."

Luckily Merta and the others just nodded, and didn't press for details.

"And if you don't have anyone bonded?" Mara continued.

"It's happened only twice in me lifetime," Merta replied. "Both years there were terrible droughts."

"That's..." _ridiculous_, Mara thought, but she bit her tongue just in time. "... most unfortunate."

"Aye, lass. But there's nothin' to be done 'bout it." Merta pushed herself away from the table. "Well, we'd best get goin' on our bakin'."

"Baking?" Mara paled slightly. "You expect me to...?" Once more she stopped herself. "You want me to help you bake... things?"

Merta gave her a strange look. "I thought ye and Luke offered to lend me a hand, to pay fer yer keep."

Mara felt about a centimeter tall. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I'll be glad to help you."

Merta nodded, and bid farewell to her other guests as she proceeded to the kitchen, a reluctant Mara trailing behind.

* * *

Luke easily found his way to Hiley's metalcrafting shop. He also found, however, that though Hiley was there, he wasn't open for business.

"Aye, lad," the long-faced shop owner told Luke. "Another few minutes, and ye would have missed me. I was just pickin' up me hammer."

"But I really need your help," Luke beseeched, pulling out the two pieces of the broken stabilizer rod. "I need to get this repaired, or obtain a new one."

Hiley took the pieces, turning them over with a scrutinizing eye. "Hmmm. A strange metal, this is. Don't know if a weld would hold, depending on how much stress ye put on it. I could fashion ye a new piece, though, sure enough."

Luke started to smile, but his face fell at Hiley's next words.

"In three days."

"But—"

Hiley handed the broken rod back. "I'm closin' up shop durin' the Winter Festival."

"Would you possibly let me borrow your tools, then, so I could do the work myself?" Luke wasn't at all sure he _could_ construct a new stabilizer, especially with the antiquated tools he'd observed in the shop, but he wasn't above grasping at straws.

Hiley gave a little chuckle. "Lad, I never laid eyes on ye before. I don't even let me friends use me tools."

Luke bit his lip uneasily. Mara was not going to like this.

"Can you work on it, then, as soon as the festival is over?"

"Aye, be glad to." He looked Luke up and down. "I'm guessing ye be one of the two strangers I heard 'bout that came in to the Red Bone last night."

"Yes."

"Well, at least ye had enough sense to come in out o' the rain. I'm on me way over to the pub now. We're meetin' there to finish up buildin' the festival booths." He laid a callused hand on Luke's shoulder. "Come, walk with me, and tell me just what kind of contraption that bar you're needin' so bad is from."

Luke was as vague as possible in his explanation as he walked beside the amiable man. He was already calculating in his head how many days behind schedule this setback was going to put them, not to mention being stuck on this mystifying planet for several more days. No, Mara was not going to like this at all.

* * *

Mara did her best to keep up with the instructions issued by her new 'boss.' It was painfully obvious to Merta, however, that the girl had never baked a narberry pie or loaf of lockabie brown bread in her life.

"No, child, ye must whip it harder," the elder woman directed. "Ye want the custard to be as smooth as the cheeks of a newborn babe."

Mara increased her physical effort in her task, but her mental ruminations were parsecs away. It occurred to her this was probably how Luke coped with all the drudgery his uncle put him though ― by daydreaming of his future. But Mara's reflections were vastly different from those of a teenaged moisture farmer. For Mara was now an engaged woman ― engaged to marry that farmer turned hero turned Jedi Knight, the man who had once been her enemy, and would now be her lover. Anticipation of that role coursed through her, eclipsing the tediousness of her present circumstances.

What irony, Mara thought. She and Luke were ready to marry, and this superstitious hamlet _needed_ someone to get married. She wondered briefly if... No, Mara shook her head to herself. Luke was going to get that stabilizer fixed, and with any luck they could be on their way back to the ship before nightfall. Besides, she couldn't imagine Luke wanting to get married without his sister and friends in attendance. But still, it couldn't hurt to make some inquiries. Luke wouldn't need to know.

"Child?"

Mara realized she had stopped stirring, and was standing there motionless, deep in thought, holding the bowl and wooden spoon in an iron grip.

"Oh, sorry." She started to resume her actions, when Merta reached out and took the bowl from her. "I think ye've beat it to death already, lass."

"Merta, I was wondering..."

"Hmmm?"

"About this bonding ceremony, at the end of the Festival. When there aren't any engaged couples here, do you ever go looking for one, from another village?"

"If they're from another village, they get wedded there, with their own kinfolk."

"But if for some reason, they wanted to get... wedded... here -- would it count? I mean, would your village still be... blessed... if the man and woman didn't actually live here. Has it ever happened?"

Merta paused, considering. "Well, lass, me family has been here for nigh twenty generations, and I can only remember tales of it happenin' once. When I was a wee child, me great-grandmother told of a Festival where a young lad and his intended were visitin' from a distant countryside. Zembuhl had no one marryin' that year, and folks were in a panic, as they had just had a drought the season before, cause of there bein' no bondin'. As I recall the tale, this young lass found herself in a family way, and it didn't take too much persuadin' by the village to talk the pair into marryin' here, 'stead of waitin' till they returned home."

"So there was a good harvest that year?"

"Good enough to tide folks over. Why all the questions, child?" Merta smiled. This was the most interest the young woman had shown in any topic since she'd arrived the evening before.

"Just curious," Mara murmured. 'Curious' ― now there was a word that hadn't been part of her vocabulary until she met a certain blond Jedi. She had been curious about him from day one. He'd intrigued her, bewildered her, and ultimately transformed her. He'd taught her that curiosity wasn't such a bad thing, contrary to the brutal indoctrination she'd received under Palpatine's tutelage.

―――――

It was shortly before lunchtime that Merta put the last of the pastries into the fire-heated oven. As she slowly straightened up, she noticed her new apprentice had a distant look on her face.

"Luke's coming back," the younger woman suddenly blurted out.

"How—?" Merta began, but Mara was already rushing toward the front entryway.

Mara flung her arms around Luke's neck as soon as he entered the hall and kissed him enthusiastically.

"Are you this glad to see me?" Luke laughed as they pulled apart slightly. "Or just glad for an excuse to get out of the kitchen?"

"Definitely the latter." Mara smirked, still clutching him around the waist. "I decided hours ago to run and kiss the first man who came through the door."

"Well, lucky me." Luke kissed her lightly on the nose. "Somebody has flour all over herself," he observed, brushing the coarse powder off his own chest.

"And somebody..." Mara returned, looking him over carefully before a frown appeared on her face, "...isn't holding a repaired stabilizer rod."

Luke's shoulders sagged in dejection. "I know."

"Well? This Hiley person couldn't repair it?"

"Yes and no," he answered cryptically.

Mara's upraised brow let him know he'd better explain, and fast.

"He thinks he can make a new one from a kind of metal he uses, called diron. I looked at some samples; it seemed strong enough to do the job, and would probably be a better choice than trying to weld the old one together."

"And he's working on this even as we speak?"

"Not exactly." Luke let go of her to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit Mara recognized all too well. She waited silently for him to continue.

Luke raised his eyes in an obvious plea for understanding. "He'll make the new rod... as soon as the Festival is over."

Mara narrowed her eyes sharply. "What's that got to do with it?"

"He closes up shop during the Festival; takes a vacation. I just happened to catch him there this morning."

"And you couldn't... convince him... to do this one little job first?" She waved one hand in front of his face to demonstrate her meaning.

Luke sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I'm not going to use the Force like that. This isn't a life and death emergency. We'll just wait until the Festival is over."

"We'll be that much later getting to Lorrd."

"I know. It can't be helped." He reached out and ran a finger through the wisps of hair that had escaped her braid. "I'm sorry."

Mara shrugged. If he wasn't going to get upset over being late for the negotiations, she sure wasn't going to either. "Not your fault. I suppose we can tough it out here a few more days."

Luke compressed his lips and looked at her intently. "Mara, there's something I want to talk to you about."

They both backed closer to the wall as a pair of guests entered, brushing past them on their way to the stairway. Mara took Luke's hand and tugged him into the deserted dining chamber, toward a pair of chairs tucked in an inglenook next to the fireplace. He slipped off his coat as they sat facing each other.

"I was helping some of the men finish putting up booths this morning, and they were describing to me the different customs that go on during this Festival," Luke began hesitantly.

Mara nodded for him to continue.

"They told me that there is always a wedding on the last night, but this year there won't be one."

Mara quickly hid her own knowledge of the same subject, wanting to hear what he had to say first. Luke seemed too lost in his thoughts to even notice her shift in emotions.

"They have this notion that all their crops will fail if no one marries during the Festival." He paused, waiting for her reaction.

"That's pretty superstitious," she responded flippantly.

"Of course it is," he agreed. "Apparently all these little towns have similar folklore."

"Probably so."

"So I imagine these mystic rituals can only involve the residents of each particular village."

"No, there was at least one time when a pair of visitors from another village was bonded here, and their crops survived," Mara gushed out quickly, causing Luke to look up in surprise. She shrugged self-consciously. "Merta was explaining it to me, too."

They both stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to voice the possible course of action that they were both obviously contemplating.

Luke finally swallowed, and drew a nervous breath. "We do have to stay here now for at least three more days, anyway."

"Which means we'll have that much more to repay Merta and the others for," Mara replied with an expressionless face.

Luke nodded. "We should do something more worthwhile than just cutting firewood and baking bread."

"Even if we think this folklore is nonsense, they all believe in it."

"And we should respect their customs."

They paused, studying each other's emotions.

Mara finally decided she'd better get to the point, or Luke would dither over this indefinitely. "Leia and your friends wouldn't like it if they missed seeing us get married."

He surprised her by rebuffing that excuse immediately. "They'd get over it."

"We don't even know if a marriage here would be legally binding for us."

"It should be as legal as on any other planet," he countered.

Mara bit her lip nervously. "We wouldn't be doing this just so we could have guilt-free sex sooner," she muttered.

"Of course not," Luke shot back without hesitation.

The tension in the air was so thick they both felt like they were suffocating. Mara inhaled sharply when Luke abruptly grasped both her hands and slid to his knees in front of her.

"Mara," he began, drawing on the Force to keep his voice calm. "Would you do me the honor of marrying me here, during the Festival?"

―――

Wondering what happened to her helper, Merta peeked out of the kitchen doorway to see the young couple engaged in a quiet conversation in the corner of the adjoining room. She couldn't make out their whispering, but she could see the way they were focused entirely on each other. The kindly innkeeper watched as Luke suddenly fell to his knees, and like a bolt from out of the blue, the young man's actions brought to Merta's mind an image of her own beloved husband proposing to her, so many years ago. Her eyes widened as she recalled all the queries Mara had made about the bonding ceremony, and how affectionate the pair had been to each other at breakfast. Could it be...?

A tear of unabashed joy trickled down Merta's cheek as she heard Mara exclaim "Yes!"

* * *

**All right, everyone. Start watching your mail for those wedding invitations. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the slight delay in updating, but thanks again to Barbossa'sApples, Mara look-a-like, Calli1, and Jedi Princess for your reviews. And welcome and thanks to bastiaan and Elessar-Lover. Thanks, also, E-L, for all your reviews on Book One!**

**Now let's see if Luke and Mara can stay out of trouble long enough to reach their wedding day.**

**

* * *

**

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Seven**

Although the small hamlet of Zembuhl had many visitors during its Winter Festival, Luke and Mara were already widely recognized as 'the strangers.' Their speech, their attire upon arrival, their hairstyles and mannerisms ― all served to set them apart immediately from the inhabitants of the obscure, isolated planet.

The news of the bonding of these two strangers spread like wildfire through the close-knit community. Within a few hours of Mara and Luke's informing Merta of their decision, everyone in Zembuhl was reveling over the unexpected salvation of the village's annual ritual.

―――――

Mara Jade drew her shawl close about her head, hoping to escape recognition as she plodded through the snow back to the boarding house. Detecting Luke's familiar presence, she circled around to the high wooden fence that enclosed the rear of Merta's property. Stepping through the back gate, she stifled an admiring grin as she crossed her arms and stood to watch.

His jacket discarded on the ground and his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, Luke wiped his brow before setting a chunk of cut timber onto a large tree stump. With a low grunt, he heaved an antiquated ax over his shoulder and brought it down to neatly split the log down the middle.

"So you _can_ do manual labor," Mara teased, her eyes following the trails of sweat down his muscular forearms as he systematically repeated his motions on each half of the log. A large mound of similarly dispatched firewood was testament to his morning's labors.

"Of course I can." His indignant expression was suddenly replaced by a sly wink. "But watch this!" He reached down and pulled his lightsaber from the folds of his rumpled coat.

Casting a quick glance around the partitioned-off work yard, Luke tossed a half-meter-long log into the air. Quickly igniting his saber, he effortlessly split the piece of wood lengthwise into four nearly equal sections before it ever hit the ground.

"Skywalker, what do you think you're doing?" Mara growled, forcing a stern look onto her beautiful countenance as she swept out with the Force for any possible eavesdroppers.

"I want to keep in practice," Luke responded, throwing two logs at once to demonstrate his prowess and just barely making the final swipes in time. "Yoda had me do this with silver bars for hours on end."

"You're going to have a lot of explaining to do if anyone sees that lightsaber," his audience scolded. She did her best to hide how impressed she'd been with his display.

"Ahh, you're no fun," he returned with a chuckle, as he shut down the glowing green blade. "I made sure it was only you within sight."

"_Only_ me? Thanks a lot." Mara made her way over to a bench near the back door and plopped down wearily. "How did I get stuck going out into that mob to deliver pies and cakes, and you got to stay here and _chop_ things!" she grumbled irritably.

Luke frowned in surprise. "So the townspeople weren't happy about our marriage plans?"

"Oh, quite the contrary." Mara groaned, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the back of the clapboard structure. "If one more person even thinks about trying to hug me, I'll be whipping out _my_ saber."

Luke had just sat down beside her, and was about to reach out when Mara's last words stopped him cold. She blinked open one emerald eye, riveting him in place. "And if you _don't_ put an arm around me," she muttered in warning, "you could be the first victim."

Luke smiled and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Sorry," he sympathized. "Guess we should have seen that coming, judging by Merta's reaction and how friendly the others have been so far."

"Well, no one actually wept like she did, but they were practically on their knees, thanking their Divine One for sending us here." Mara snuggled her head against Luke's shoulder. "I thought your toolcrafting buddy was trying to squeeze the breath out of me."

Luke pursed his lips uneasily. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"Might have accidentally stepped on his toe," she murmured. "Shouldn't prevent him from making the new stabilizer rod."

Luke kissed the top of her head softly. "I'll try to intervene when we go out this evening."

"Sure, you like getting hugs." She looked up at his dancing eyes. "Why do we have to participate in this primitive carnival, anyway?"

"Mara, we can't just hide in our room until the wedding," he reasoned.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," she countered, reaching up and stroking his wind-chapped cheek with her gloved fingers. "I'm certain we could find plenty of things to occupy ourselves."

Luke winced slightly in regret. "Too many things, I'm afraid." He squeezed her tightly against himself. "It's only for a couple more days," he began, getting back to the subject of the villagers. "Surely we can suffer through a host of well-wishers that long. Soon we'll be on our way back to the ship, and back out to the mawrat-race of the rest of the galaxy."

Mara let out a deep sigh. "And then? You enjoy being with people, Luke. I don't. You like being surrounded by friends. I like my privacy."

"Hey." He tilted her face up toward his. "You know me better than that. Yes, I'm glad to see my friends, but I don't like big crowds. I would much rather be alone, especially alone with you."

"I don't think that particular fact thrills your sister."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you notice that scowl on her face when she comes looking for you, and finds us alone together?"

Luke was silent a moment. "Well, yes, but she only seeks me out when I'm late for some meeting or appointment. I'm sure that's why she always frowns."

Mara shook her head. Men could be so dense sometimes. "She usually has a smile on her face until she sees me. I told you months ago that she and Han didn't trust me. They still don't."

Luke looked down at their joined hands on his lap. "I should have made more of an effort to include you when I got together with them and my other friends."

"Which would have only strengthened everyone's supposition that we've been sleeping together all this time."

"What!"

"Though in hindsight," Mara continued thoughtfully, ignoring his interruption, "your not including me probably reinforced the notion that much more. It wouldn't do for the Jedi war hero to be flaunting his lover, after all. Especially one that had been a court dancer."

"Now wait a minute. I told Han and Leia you weren't just an ordinary dancer."

"Eventually. Which made it look like you were ashamed for them to think what the rest of Coruscant thinks."

She put her hand over his mouth when he started to object again. "You didn't really believe those thugs in the Ranat Roost were the only ones who consider us 'involved,' did you?"

This time Luke made no attempt to reply, his eyes betraying his reflective pondering.

"To get back to my point, I doubt Leia is going to welcome the news of our nuptials with open arms, and I'm afraid that is going to bother you more than you realize." She raised his bare left hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "Despite your rather hasty remark this morning that she'd 'get over it.'"

Luke drew in a deep breath of frigid air, then exhaled slowly. "I guess we'll just take things a step at a time when we get back." He looked at her, his eyes shining with love as he squeezed her hands. "I don't want to postpone our plans," he said softly.

"Good," she mouthed back, as their heads drew closer. (Because I'm looking forward to being your wife,) she sent, their lips meeting in a soft kiss that quickly escalated into a fervent embrace.

(Merta's coming,) Luke alerted Mara a few minutes later, though he didn't pull back.

(So?) Mara returned, clutching him even tighter. (I'm sure betrothed couples are allowed to kiss, even here. In fact, everyone here also thinks we're doing more than just kissing.)

At that, Luke broke the kiss and grinned sheepishly. "We're fooling people all over the galaxy!"

Any comeback Mara might have made was cut off by the creaking of the boarding house's back door. "I suspected I might find ye two lovepups hidin' out back here." The weathered skin around the jolly matron's eyes crinkled with laughter. "But there be a whole batch o' folks who can't wait to meet ye."

"I thought I already met everyone possible this afternoon," Mara said with a moan, though she was smiling at the jovial landlady.

"Child, that was only a smidgen of the bodies attendin' Festival tonight. And ev'ry one of 'em is hopin' fer a bit of yer favor."

"I've been trying to convince her to get going," Luke declared, rising and tugging on Mara's arm.

"I could see that right off when I came out." The older woman winked at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Ye have interestin' ways of persuadin' in that village of yers."

"Hmmm... yes... well..." Luke grinned guiltily as he headed toward the pieces of wood lying scattered on the ground. "Let me just stack this in the woodshed first."

It was at that moment that Merta noticed all the firewood piled haphazardly near the chopping block.

"Land's sakes!" she exclaimed, pulling her wrap around her shoulders as she stepped out for a better look. "Ye split all that while we were gone? By yerself?"

"Yes, ma'am." Luke paused with his armload of kindling. "I guess I got a little carried away."

Mara glanced at Luke, relieved to see he had once more hidden his lightsaber inside his jacket. "Farmboy never knows when to stop," she joked.

Merta frowned at her statement, then turned to Luke. "I thought ye were a fisherman?"

Luke shot Mara a _'thanks a lot'_ look. "I used to be a farmhand, growing up."

"Yer family still work the land?" Merta inquired curiously.

"No. My aunt and uncle did, but they've passed away. They brought me up on their farm." He gave Merta a heartfelt smile. "You remind me of my Aunt Beru." His sincere compliment also served to distract Merta from asking any more details about this 'farm.' Luke could just imagine trying to explain that their main crop was water.

"Do I now?" The plump woman laughed. "In a good way?"

"Absolutely," he returned with a grin. "She was a very special woman."

"She musta been, to raise up a fine lad like yerself."

Mara smiled to herself as the two talked. Luke had related several tales to her of his youth, and the opposite temperaments that his aunt and uncle had possessed. She knew, of course, of the stolen plans to the first Death Star, but didn't realize until recently that Luke's guardians were murdered in the attempted retrieval of those plans. She thanked the stars that those were two executions not on her already-burdened conscience.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A short while later, the woodshed was overflowing with neatly stacked firewood, and Merta and her newest guests joined the stream of partygoers flowing toward the evening's festivities. Lively, foot-stomping music drifted through the cold night air as they drew close, and brightly lit paper lanterns threw colorful reflections across the crowded town square.

Merta soon excused herself and hurried off to greet visiting friends she'd not seen since last year, leaving Luke and Mara to fend for themselves against the gushing tide of well-intentioned congratulations. Luke did his best to divert the more overbearing of the throng, but neither was immune to the affable back-slapping, hand-shaking, kiss-on-the-cheek gestures. Eventually they were able to move along and explore the diverse booths erected around the festival grounds.

"Hey, Skywalker, look! Games of skill!" Mara tugged him in the direction of several stalls where men were engaging in various competitive activities. "These all look like a cinch. We could win at any of these. Heck, I could beat _you_ at any of these." She gave him a conceited smirk.

"Oh, you think so, do you?" he rallied back, easily rising to her baiting. "I could outscore you standing on my head."

"Humph. I could outdo you blindfolded," she shot back, grinning. She loved the verbal sparring with Luke as much as any actual matches.

"All right." Luke accepted the challenge. "You pick. Whichever contest you like, I'm ready."

They stopped at a nearby booth and watched as compacted snowballs were hurled toward bottles balancing precariously atop one another on small ledges.

"Let's try this one," Mara suggested eagerly, salivating at the prospect of showing up both the locals and her fiancé. "Be prepared to put your money where your mouth is."

"Hmmm. Money. That could be a problem." Luke glanced at the proprietor questioningly.

"Just one deka, friend," the jovial young man invited, his rakish cap sitting jauntily atop his dark curls. "Knock three down with one throw, and win yer pretty lass a treasure." He waved a hand toward a row of gaudy trinkets. "Knock all nine down with three throws, and ye get double yer dekas back."

Luke turned toward his companion. "Mara, we don't have—"

He was interrupted by the booming voice of Efam, the pub owner. "Jaco Modesa, ye can't be a-chargin' this lad! This be the pair that's gettin' hitched durin' the Festival."

"Ye don't say!" Jaco held out three frozen spheres to Luke. "Have a go at it with me complements then, me friend."

Luke took the proffered projectiles with a word of thanks, and promptly knocked down all the targets in rapid succession. A cheer arose, and Jaco graciously handed him two dekas.

"But I didn't pay anything," Luke protested. "You don't have to give me any winnings."

"Nonsense!" the young man returned. "Ye earned yer prize, and I'd be shirkin' me duty not to pay."

Luke picked up one of the coins and held it out. "Then let me pay for a second round."

Within minutes, the Jedi now clutched three coins, and was contemplating his third attempt when Mara grabbed his arm.

"Hey, it's my turn. Move over and let me throw."

Muffled gasps sounded from the small crowd that had congregated, and Luke detected worried looks on their faces. Efam leaned over and whispered in his ear, eliciting a dangerous narrowing of Mara's emerald eyes as she watched Luke frown in consternation.

"What's wrong?" she growled, as he pulled her aside.

Luke swallowed nervously, then revealed in a hushed voice, "Women aren't allowed to compete in these games."

"What! Why not?" she cried out in a huff, making no attempt to hide her resentment. Nothing rankled Mara Jade worse than being prohibited from engaging in an activity simply because of her gender.

"It's just their way, Mara," he said, trying to pacify her. "It's nothing against you. We should have noticed that only men are participating in all these contests."

Mara glanced around and confirmed his words; the few women that stood nearby were only watching as their husbands/beaus/brothers demonstrated their aim and dexterity. "This is ridiculous." She bristled with indignation. "Women can knock over little bottles just as well as men."

(Mara, don't make a scene,) Luke pleaded silently.

"Don't make a scene!" she exploded aloud, her temper flaring to life and her fists clenching at her sides. Mara's anticipation of vying with Luke was quickly forgotten in light of encountering yet another example of what was an all-too-frequent injustice throughout the galaxy.

"Not even married yet, and she kin already read his mind," one bystander guffawed.

"She's strong, too, for bein' just a slip of a lass," Hiley the metalcrafter put in. "Me big toe's still throbbin'."

"Aye, he'll have his hands full with that spitfire," another patron concurred. He instantly fell silent when Mara speared him with a lethal glare.

"Mara... dear..." Luke laid a hand tentatively on her arm. "I'm sure there are activities here the women take part in."

"Don't you 'Mara, dear' me." She turned her wrath on her fiancé. "Or you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight."

Hoots and catcalls echoed from the growing crowd, and Luke's expression suddenly hardened. He yanked Mara out of earshot.

"I can't believe you approve of this." She didn't miss a beat in her ranting. "I thought you Rebels fought against bigotry." Mara had been surrounded by prejudice in the Empire; having it directed at her was not something she had ever accepted willingly.

"Of course I don't approve, but you're making too big of a deal out of this. We need to fit in here," he growled, "not see how much of an uproar we can cause."

"You just go ahead and fit right in, farmboy," she spat back. "These yokels are your kind of riffraff, anyway."

"I don't care what you say about me, I'm plenty used to it, but there's no reason to ridicule these people." Luke's voice was low and threatening, and his grip on her arm tightened. "They have been nothing but gracious and helpful, and to insult their way of living is inexcusable."

"Well, I guess there's just no excuse for me then, is there?" With a violent jerk, Mara pulled her arm away. Whirling around, she disappeared from sight as the crowd hurriedly parted to let the steaming redhead through.

Luke bit his bottom lip as he watched the retreating figure of the woman he loved.

"She's a might high-strung," someone murmured in a gravelly voice near his ear. Luke turned to see Efam giving him a knowing nod.

"Aye, me own dear wife had a sharp tongue when we married, nigh thirty years ago," Hiley said, clapping an arm around Luke's shoulders and leading him over to a bench near the gaming booth.

"And now?" Luke asked hopefully. Perhaps women mellowed a bit after years of marriage.

"She still does, o' course," Hiley said with a broad grin. "Keeps a spark of excitement in our conjugal doins'," he added with a wink to the wide-eyed Jedi.

"Womenfolk always feel more easygoin' after a good tumble," Efam advised, coming up with two tankards of ale and handing one to Luke. "Yer keeping her satisfied, ain't ye?"

"Excuse me?" Luke sputtered, nearly choking on his first swallow.

"In yer bed," the pub owner elaborated.

"Uh, we're not married yet," Luke protested, looking back and forth at the smiling faces of his companions.

"Yer sharin' that big bed over at Merta's," Hiley contradicted, leaning lazily against a corner of the booth.

Luke stared in confusion, wondering how Hiley could have obtained such information. Gossip must travel faster here than it did in Anchorhead.

"Aye, but the lass pushed him out of it this mornin'," put in Madame Rosella's husband, Gerd, who sat down next to Luke.

"That must be it, then," a smiling Hiley concluded.

"I don't think—" Luke began, before being cut off by the toolcrafter.

"Is she always contrary when ye haven't tickled her fancy?"

_She's always contrary, period,_ thought Luke. He glanced at the expectant faces waiting for his answer. This was a topic he hadn't even felt comfortable enough to discuss with Han. But he remembered what he'd just told Mara, about these villagers being only gracious and helpful.

"Maybe he hasn't had a roll in the hay with her yet," Jaco piped up.

Luke had never heard that particular phrase before, but it didn't take a hyperdrive designer to know what it meant. The guilty look on his face enforced Jaco's conjecture.

"Ye haven't, have ye, lad?" Hiley smiled in sympathy.

"Not exactly," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the tankard of ale clutched in his hand.

"I knew it!" Jaco whooped. "He's got that same pinin' look I used to have, 'fore me and Aerie took our first tumble."

"And you two been a-tumblin' ever since." Efam laughed heartily. "Jaco and his lass were bonded at Festival last year," he went on, as Luke's gaze fell on the young gamer.

"Aye, and come spring we'll have a new young one to show fer it," Jaco announced proudly, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Ye and yer miss hopin' fer a big brood o' children?" Gerd asked Luke, his knobby throat bobbing as he spoke.

Luke's head swiveled to the older man. "We, uh, haven't thought much about it yet," he admitted. _We've only been engaged less than a day, _he reflected to himself._ And getting married in less than two._

"Ahh, there be nothin' finer than strong sons and comely daughters," Efam proclaimed. He thrust a new mug of ale into Luke's hand.

"No, thanks, I still..." The young Jedi halted in his refusal when he noticed the tankard he held had been drained dry.

"Now then, lad." Efam clapped Luke on the shoulder. "What say we earn ye a few more dekas?"

Luke glanced in the direction Mara had gone. "I really should..." But Hiley and Efam were both guiding him back toward the gaming booths.

"Riled up womenfolk need time to cool off," Hiley advised. "The worst thing ye can do is go runnin' after 'em."

Though misgivings bounced around in his jumbled mind, Luke knew from past experiences that a cooling off period for both Mara and him was not without merit. He didn't protest as the other men drew him into their lively circle of good will and gambling.


	8. Chapter 8

**My, my, so many questions from the last chapter!**

**JumpinArabLuvr33:** _Will Luke & Mara go through with the wedding since they're so upset at each other? _Welcome! So you don't think they'll kiss and make-up before the wedding?

**Da**** Mess Maker:** _Are Luke and Mara going to complete the mission they were assigned or will they just return to HQ after their wedding? _You're assuming they'll be able to get off the planet. You'll know by the end of book two.

**Celtic Circle** _When they get back to the rebel head quarters I wonder how everyone is going to take Luke and Mara's marriage? And when are Liea and Han going to find out what Mara Jade really did when she was under the emporer's rein? How will they react? _― All will be answered in Book Three. So I hope you're patient. And welcome!

**Mara look-a-like** and **Elessar-Lover**: Thanks! Those villagers have quite a lot they can teach our heroes.

Here we go, one of my favorite chapters. And a couple questions may even be answered here.

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery -- Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Eight**

Mara wasn't at all sure where she was headed when she stormed away from Luke, only that she needed to put as much space between herself and that know-it-all Jedi as she could. The nerve of him, treating her like an insolent child. Why, he...

A melodious voice rang out. "Mara!"

Mara looked up to see a young woman stepping lightly through the snow, her blonde curls bouncing against her small shoulders.

"I was hopin' ye'd come to the Festival," the newcomer said, smiling gaily.

Mara eyed the vaguely familiar-looking girl suspiciously.

Nonplussed by Mara's apprehensive demeanor, the girl introduced herself. "I'm Aerie. Aerie Modesa. We met this mornin' when ye were helpin' Merta bring pies over."

"Oh, yes, of course," the redhead returned, as Luke's recent lecture on being friendly echoed in her mind.

"Is yer beau with ye?" Aerie continued, looking behind Mara. "I thought I might get to meet him."

"No, he's over there," Mara gestured over her shoulder with a grimace, "busy knocking down bottles."

Aerie laughed merrily. "Then he's at me husband Jaco's booth. Jaco runs the general goods shop with his brother, but he always puts up a stand fer the Festival." She leaned closer and grinned. "Those menfolk could spend all day fritterin' away their time at those games. I meself prefer somethin' with a little more action."

Mara looked at the young woman in surprise. "Such as?"

"Well, I was on me way over to the fishin' pond, to go glidin'."

"Gliding?" Mara noticed the pair of thin metal blades Aerie had slung over her shoulder.

"Aye. The pond is frozen o'er solid, and is near perfect fer ice glidin'. Would ye like to join me?"

"Yes, that sounds like fun," Mara consented. She wasn't sure exactly what ice gliding consisted of, but it had to beat wandering along, dwelling on her argument with Luke. So she and Aerie set off across the white-blanketed Festival grounds, pausing on their way to watch a group of children enthusiastically carving imaginative sculptures out of compacted snow.

"Look at that one!" Aerie grinned, pointing to an especially large figure. "Ain't that a sight?"

Mara squinted at the snowy effigy of some type of quadruped. "What is it supposed to be?"

Aerie gave her a strange look. "Why, it's a feraline," she said. "And a right good likeness. Don't tell me ye've never seen one."

Mara's mind raced. Obviously this was some common animal. Once again Luke's exhortation about fitting in sprang unbidden to her mind. "Yes, of course I have," she answered with a smile. "I meant, what do you think it's supposed to be doing?"

"Oh." Aerie didn't sound quite convinced by Mara's reply, but she let it pass. "Let's ask. Thal!" she called to one of the boys patting snow on a leg of the beast. "What is yer feraline doin'? Climbin' a hill?"

"No!" The buck-toothed boy of about twelve snorted indignantly. "It's about to attack a rishhare, and tear it limb from limb with its big teeth." The boy made an exaggerated roaring noise.

"Oh, my!" The blonde woman put a hand to her mouth in mock fright. "How dangerous!"

"Aye, so ye better watch out!" Thal growled, pawing his hand in the air before turning back to his handiwork.

"Charming lad," Mara commented dryly, as the two women resumed their trek to the outskirts of the village.

"Humph." Aerie smirked in agreement. "That one's a scalawag, fer sure. Ahh, here we be."

Mara looked ahead to see a moderate-sized body of water, its surface completely frozen. Strings of colored streamers decorated oil lamps set on high posts surrounding the pond, casting colorful reflections across the frosty expanse. Young and old observers alike crowded on wooden benches, taking advantage of the unobstructed view of the swirling action.

Aerie immediately struck up conversations with several Festival visitors, each of them greeting Mara warmly. Offers to lend the newcomer a pair of blades appeared from all directions. Before she knew it, the redhead was gliding across the ice; both the Force and her own natural ability made keeping her balance effortless.

Mara had witnessed various forms of turbo-skating over the years, all on artificial rinks, and had even had the opportunity to go turbo-skiing once at Imperial Center's polar region. But neither compared to the soothing relaxation of leisurely sweeping along on the smooth, icy surface. Even warm-weather-loving Luke would enjoy this, Mara thought suddenly, a sense of emptiness creeping into her being that he was not beside her.

Mara glanced aside as Aerie flew past, her gleeful laughter betraying her unfettered delight. Suddenly the young blonde spun to an abrupt halt, shards of ice flying, as a shrill voice screeched her name from the bank.

"Aerie Modesa! What in stars' sake do ye think yer doin!"

Mara noted a thin, long-faced woman glaring harshly at her companion.

"Me Aunt Pit," Aerie whispered, as she slowly glided toward the elder woman.

"Have ye no sense at all rattlin' 'round in that empty head of yers?" the dowager ranted.

"I'm doin' just fine, Auntie." Aerie tried to reassure her over-protective relative. "I been glidin' since I could walk."

"Ye've got more than yerself to think of now, child. Ye can't be takin' risks like this."

"I won't fall," the younger woman declared emphatically, her mouth set in grim determination. "I'm just with child, not an invalid," she called behind her as she resumed her graceful motions.

Keeping up with her new friend's steady pace, Mara gave a wide-eyed sweeping gaze at Aerie's figure, which was swathed with heavy clothing. "You're pregnant?"

"Aye." The bubbly blonde smiled broadly, the cold, brisk wind reddening her cheeks. "I'm just over halfway along."

"Your first?" Mara asked, berating herself for not noticing.

Aerie nodded affirmatively. "Jaco and me were bonded at the last Festival." She gave Mara a sly sideways grin, then turned and began gliding backwards. "Perhaps ye'll be expectin' a wee one this time next year?"

"Oh, I don't think—" Suddenly Mara's danger sense flared. A small girl flew toward them, her concentration directed toward keeping her balance rather than watching out for others. Aerie cried out as she collided with the youngster, and a hard fall seemed inevitable, until an invisible force reached out to steady them both.

"Are you all right?" Mara questioned worriedly, as she quickly clasped Aerie by the elbow.

"Aye," the blonde murmured in relief and confusion. A quick check satisfied everyone that the little girl was also unharmed, and was now on her way to face the reprimanding tongue of her mother.

"Come, let's rest a bit," Mara advised, guiding her friend over to an unoccupied bench along the bank.

"I know I shouldna' been glidin' backwards, but, Mara," Aerie turned wide-eyed to her companion, "it was like a spirit held me up! Just before ye touched me, I could feel... somethin'... keepin' me from fallin'."

"Maybe you're just better at balancing yourself than you thought." Mara was hoping to dissuade her friend from the idea of mysterious spirits. These people were superstitious enough as it was, without the Force being involved too.

"Maybe," Aerie agreed, although a doubtful frown still filled her expression before she shook it off. "I think I've had me fill of glidin' tonight. What say we go taste some sweets, 'fore me Auntie gets wind of me nearly breakin' me stubborn neck?"

"Sure," Mara replied, already slipping off her blades. "I've worked up an appetite anyway."

"Oh, me too! But then, I'm always hungry now." Aerie patted her abdomen with a laugh, and after returning Mara's borrowed blades, the two set off for a nearby brightly lit building.

―――

Nearly two hours later, Mara had bid Aerie goodnight and was headed back toward Merta's inn, her head swirling with jumbled thoughts as she automatically exchanged greetings with those she passed. Though she had, surprisingly enough, enjoyed her time with the effervescent Aerie Modesa, the image of Luke's pained expression at the gaming booth never left her mind. Arguing with each other had become somewhat of a pastime for the two of them over the last couple months, and getting engaged apparently had not dissolved that tendency. But this was the first time she could remember regretting her sharp rebukes.

All evening, every passing sight of a man and a woman gliding across the ice arm in arm, or stuffing flavorful treats in each other's mouths, had made her long to share those experiences with Luke. She didn't need to consciously reach out with the Force to know he hadn't returned to the inn yet, and she refrained from using their bond to check on his whereabouts. Discovering he was currently involved in, or worse yet, delighting in, some macho competitive diversion would do nothing to improve her melancholy mood, she decided. Especially when she herself knew no rivals in the realm of competitiveness.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was just as well Mara hadn't used the Force to eavesdrop on her fiancé, since at that moment Luke was indeed vying in a boisterous contest of skill. For the first hour after Mara's resentful, indignant departure, he both brooded over their argument and reflected on the other men's well-meaning assertions as to the underlying cause of their bickering. Hiley, Efam, and the rest of the group took note of Luke's dispirited demeanor and endeavored, successfully, to include him in their merry-making. After making the rounds at the various gaming booths, which netted the Jedi a sizable collection of dekas, the group moved to the Lucky Red Bone Pub. There the contest of choice consisted of hurling small metal projectiles at concentric circles painted on a large board hanging on one wall. These tackdarts, as they were called, were small stylus-shaped picks, sharpened to a keen point, with brightly-colored feathers added for balance.

Luke had tossed his share of photon darts over the years ― a favorite pastime in pilots' lounges and second-rate bars. Even Fixer had had an old tracedart game in the back room of Tosche Station. Tackdarts turned out to be merely a primitive version of the same thing.

Luke's ability to hit the center circle with every throw earned him both the admiration of his fellow competitors, and an even heavier pocketful of the local currency. That the admiration didn't turn into envy Luke attributed to two facts ― that he would only be in Zembuhl a few more days, and, of course, his upcoming bonding.

Finally, though, the Jedi felt compelled to call a halt to his consistent winning streak. The locals, however, wouldn't hear of letting him sit on the sidelines. Instead, they began wagering amongst themselves as to how many perfect throws Luke could make in a row.

The young soon-to-be newlywed sat waiting while Efam collected the latest round of bets. Luke raised his mug for another swallow, and realized he had already finished it. He stared at the bottom of the empty tankard. _How many of these did I drink?_ he thought. _Five?__ Six?_ And that was just since the group had adjourned to the Red Bone. He vaguely remembered having several refills back at the festival booths.

"We're ready, lad," Hiley announced, gesturing toward the target. "I've got ye pegged fer sixteen more perfect tosses, so don't ye be lettin' me down."

Luke stood, a bit shakily, and took the quartet of tackdarts he was handed. Taking a deep breath to steady his hand... _When had he ever had to consciously steady his hand?..._ Luke let loose the volley in rapid succession. Four bull's-eyes. Just like shooting womprats...

Efam stepped forward to refill the Jedi's tankard.

"No, no thanks." Luke waved him off. "I've had enough." _More than enough,_ he thought, as he prepared to throw again.

"Just six more, Luke!" called out Jaco, who had relinquished temporary management of his gaming booth to his cousin.

"No, eight," put in Gerd, his wrinkled face grinning in anticipation of a substantial payoff.

"Let the lad concentrate," Hiley ordered the others, before quietly adding aside to Luke, "A dozen more, son."

Luke nodded as he toed the mark on the worn floor. He wouldn't deliberately favor anyone's wagered number. He knew from past rounds the men would simply put down new bets on higher guesses when he surpassed their current speculations.

The blond youth squinted as he eyed the gameboard._ Why did it seem a little blurry? _No matter, he could do this with his eyes closed. He reached back, then let go. Bull's-eye again. Just barely. As he rolled the second tackdart in his fingers, Luke had an odd, queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. _Had he eaten something that didn't agree with him? Come to think of it, had he eaten anything at all this evening?_

"Ye gonna throw that thing?" someone called out from a corner of the room.

Luke blinked again, and the dart left his hand. His head rather hurt, too, he reflected, as he braced himself for the clapping that had been accompanying every toss for the last hour. But silence filled the room.

"He missed," someone near him whispered. Luke turned to look at the speaker, then moved slowly to peer at the target. The tackdart had caught only the edge of the outermost circle. He _had _missed!

A lone cheer suddenly issued from a ruddy-faced farmer perched near the bar. "I win! A hunnard and fourteen bull's-eyes! I win the pot!"

Luke slowly sat as Efam counted out the farmer's winnings. He had actually missed! How pompous had he been, thinking he could never fail to hit the center? True, he hadn't been actively using the Force. That would be cheating. But he had always had excellent aim, even before he'd ever heard of the Force. In fact, his past contests with both fellow Tatooine cohorts and Rebel pilots usually evolved into Luke competing against himself, as no one cared to risk their credits on the slim chance of beating him.

The Jedi looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm headin' back to the inn," Gerd said quietly. "If yer ready, I thought we could walk together."

The prospect of returning to the inn suddenly seemed very inviting. Luke and Gerd exited the pub, the frigid night air assaulting the younger man's senses and noticeably reviving him. As he walked beside the elderly gentleman, Luke's thoughts turned once more to Mara, as they had throughout the evening. Would she be in their room when he got there? Would she accept his apology? What had she been doing, while he'd been competing in the segregated contests? Luke had reached out for her through the Force not long after she had stalked off. He had felt she had been enjoying herself, whatever she was doing, until she took note of his eavesdropping. Mara had slammed up her barriers tightly at that. He probably could have breached the wall, if he'd really wanted to, but had decided it wasn't in his best interest to do so.

Gerd broke into Luke's musings. "Here we be, lad."

The Jedi's step slowed as they entered the warmth of the boarding house. Gerd bid his farewell as he headed to his own room, and for the first time since his arrival, Luke used the railing to pull himself up the stairway.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mara had already changed into her nightgown and was stoking the flames in the old fireplace when she felt Luke's presence appear downstairs. A presence that, oddly enough, felt rather cloudy. An inordinate amount of time later, the door to their quarters creaked open, and she looked up to watch Luke shuffle in quietly. Arms hanging at his side, he stood just to the right of the door, as if he wanted to dissolve into the wall he was leaning against.

Mara finally broke the silence, all thoughts of renewing their argument suddenly unimportant. "Hello."

"Hi," Luke croaked, and his slight form seemed to shrink into the heavy coat he wore. Mara thought he looked... vulnerable.

"Are you all right?" she asked, stepping closer to perceive his features in the shadows. "You look a little... green."

"I'm... okay," Luke stammered, though he felt just the opposite.

Mara drew within a dozen centimeters of him, and her eyes widened as she sniffed suspiciously. "Are you drunk?" she blurted out in accusation.

"No!" Luke denied. "I shust... just... feel... really sick." Without warning, he bolted for the refresher.

Mara's jaw dropped, then she hurried to follow, stopping short as her eyes fell on her fiancé, kneeling on the floor and retching miserably into one of the metal buckets.

"Luke!" Mara pumped some cool water onto a small cloth. After helping him shrug off his coat, she tenderly wiped at his sweat-beaded forehead.

"What have you done to yourself?" she scolded, though her voice was gentle and soothing.

Luke shook his head, and winced at the movement. "I guess... I drank... too mush... much... ale." The words were barely out when a second round of nausea hit him, and Mara brushed back his hair as he made use of the bucket once more.

"So, Skywalker, you are human after all," she chided softly.

He raised bleary eyes to her. "I'm... sorry," he moaned.

"Shhhh." She filled a glass with water and handed it to him with the order, "Rinse." He didn't need to be told twice.

"Better?" she asked, and he gave a silent nod. Mara went into the outer room, then returned moments later wearing boots and a coat over her gown. Luke gave her a quizzical look until she started to pick up the bucket, then he laid a hand on her arm.

"I'll... I'll take care of that."

"Nonsense," she countered. "You've been taking all the turns with the chamberpot. Besides...," she leaned over and kissed his temple, "I wouldn't trust you not to fall down the steps."

Mara paused by the doorway as Luke rose to his feet. "I'll expect you to be in bed when I get back."

He nodded once more, and Mara was relieved to see his color already returning to normal.

―――――

When Mara re-entered their room a short time later, she frowned as she noted Luke had not followed her last instruction. He had donned his sleep pants and a thin homespun shirt, but was now sitting cross-legged on a braided rug next to the bed, apparently meditating. He opened his eyes and looked up as Mara drew close.

"What are you doing?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "You should be in bed sleeping."

"Sleeping... it off?" He cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm... cleansing... the alcohol from my body," he went on, taking his time to enunciate each word. "Yoda showed me how to do this... for poisoning. I'm hoping... the same principle... will apply."

"Is it working?"

"I... can't tell yet."

Mara hung her coat on a hook behind the door and pulled off her boots. "May I follow what you're doing, to learn the technique, too?"

"Of course." He scooted over to make room for her on the rug. "Though I can't imagine... you being foolish enough... to over-imbibe."

"Oh, I don't know." Mara winked. "Being married to you may drive me to drinking."

"I shertain... certainy..." Luke stammered, his expression one of embarrassment as he stumbled over the word, "... hope not."

Mara chuckled aloud at his slip. "Keep cleansing, Jedi." She matched his position and clasped one of his hands, then effortlessly reached into their Force link to follow Luke's methodic eradicating of the alcohol molecules from his system.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was more than an hour later when Luke again opened his eyes, feeling more fatigued than refreshed, but relieved that he could sense no lingering effects of the ale. Still clutching Mara's hand, he straightened his stiff legs and leaned back against the side of the bed. Almost simultaneously, Mara also stirred and gracefully stretched her muscles. She turned her head and smiled as Luke began speaking in a much more controlled voice.

"I can't believe I let that happen." He sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "That has got to be the most humiliating spectacle I've made of myself in ages. And right in front of you, yet."

"Must be why they add that 'whether healthy or ill' part in the vows," Mara said with a snicker. "You never know how your partner may drag through the door."

Luke groaned in renewed chagrin.

She reached out and stroked his cheek. "They say every experience is a learning experience." She gave him a gentle kiss as he turned in her direction. "Did you learn anything?"

"Never to drink anymore of Efam's brew," he vowed. "That stuff has got to be ten times more potent than lomin ale."

Mara arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"I learned... I like having you take care of me," he added in a soft whisper. "I love you, Mara, and I need you."

"That's better. And perhaps someday," she added with a sly grin, "I'll get to return the favor... with bouts of morning sickness."

Luke sat up and stared in dumbfounded bewilderment at her, caught off guard by her last words. "Wh... what?"

She shrugged in casual indifference. "You never know."

He narrowed his eyes as he mulled over her uncharacteristic attitude. "Is there something we need to discuss?"

"Not yet!" Mara laughed sharply. "Last I checked, farmboy, you can't get a girl pregnant just by thinking about having sex with her."

"But you're not opposed to having children, eventually?" Luke had been renewing, in recent days, his old dreams of someday having a family of his own. He hadn't even considered that Mara might have other ideas.

"Eventually," she replied, vanquishing his fears. "Just give me time to get used to being a wife first. I can't remember ever being around a normal family. I think the idea of becoming parents is something we both need to ease into gradually."

Luke nodded in agreement, then worked his mouth awkwardly as he tried to formulate his next question. "So don't you think... I mean,... we need to take, er... plan..."

Mara smiled to herself at his nervousness. "You think we should talk about prevention meds."

"Exactly. We don't know if they even have such a thing here."

"You don't have to worry," she assured him. "I'm already using them."

"You are?" A mixture of relief and confusion settled in the pit of his stomach.

She squeezed his hand warmly. "For several years now. As soon as I started going out on missions, the Emperor sent me to his personal physician to make sure I was covered. Guess a pregnant assassin wouldn't have been very efficient." Feeling his growing concern, she went on. "Sometimes my... assignments... would involve luring men to their bedrooms, where they would let their guard down. Among other things," she added, laughing.

"But—"

"Don't worry. Nothing ever happened. I never let it get that far."

Luke let go of his bride-to-be's hand, instead putting his arm around her and hugging her close. He tried not to think about what Mara most likely did to permanently end each unwanted advance. "But, Mara," he continued, a nagging concern still clinging to his thoughts. "When we were together, in that suite in the palace, you told me Palpatine was hoping that you and I would... that we'd conceive a child. How...?"

"I was ordered to discontinue the meds then. They even gave me a fertility drug. I went back to using contraception afterwards, from one of your Emdee droids."

"Surely you didn't think we'd be sending you on assignments where there would be a chance..."

"No," she interrupted him softly. "I didn't think that."

Luke paused, as the implications of what she said sank in. "You thought maybe I would..." he trailed off. Had she been afraid that he would, or hoping that he would?

"I could never be afraid of you, Luke," she murmured, reading his thoughts.

"Guess I've been a disappointment," he mumbled, biting his lower lip.

"No, Luke, never think that." She hugged him fiercely. "I love you. You could never disappoint me."

He returned her embrace, and added a kiss. "Just remember that on our wedding night," he said wryly. He leaned back against the bed once more, Mara's head nestled on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about that argument we had at the Festival," he murmured after a few moments of silence. "I know being here is hard on you."

"Luke, you already apologized, unnecessarily, for our being stranded here." She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "You cannot keep taking the blame every time something goes wrong. Besides," she added, laying her head back on his shoulder, "I'm rather getting used to some of the customs and activities these people engage in."

"Really?" He leisurely stroked her hair, marveling not for the first time at its softness. "So what did you do this evening to keep busy, without me around to pester you?"

"Well, I stayed sober, for one thing." When he refused to reply to her teasing, she continued. "I went ice-gliding, with a friend."

"You found a friend here?" Luke queried suspiciously.

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?"

"No, no," he backtracked hurriedly. "Go on."

"And then we sampled every sweet treat we could lay our hands on." Mara giggled at the memory. "Aerie really is a nice person, and she's expecting a baby, too."

"Ahh, so that's what brought that up..." Luke stopped when Mara elbowed him. He felt a certain amount of relief that this friend turned out to be a 'she.' He thought about the new friends he had made that evening as well, and then furrowed his brow in contemplation. "This Aerie, her last name wouldn't be Modesa, would it?"

"Yes." Mara raised her head in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I met her husband tonight. He was the fellow running that abhorrent males-only booth with the bottles to knock over."

"Yes, she told me."

"He turned out to be quite likeable, and very excited at the prospect of being a new father."

"I'm sure," she chortled dryly. "And what did you do to occupy yourself, besides tipping mugs of ale?"

Luke groaned to himself. She would never let him live that down. "Nothing interesting."

"Luke..."

He exhaled in resignation. "We tried out all the games at the Festival, then went back to the pub, and..."

"And what?"

"Threw tackdarts."

"Which are...?"

"Like photon darts, without the photons."

"Oh." She loved competing with photon darts, and knew that Luke was well aware of that fact. She could easily sense his regret that she wasn't able to join him at the contest, and graciously took it easy on him. "So did you win?"

Luke started to answer, then paused. Suddenly he sat up a little straighter and puffed out his chest with an exaggerated swagger. "Hey, it's me," he gloated. "You don't really think I could be beaten, do you? Even half-drunk?"

Mara laughed loudly as she pushed him over onto the floor. "I think you're still half-drunk! I suppose we can buy this whole village with the vast fortune you won."

"Of course..." Luke stopped and rolled to his knees, gawking around the room. "That reminds me, I wanted to show you something. Where's my coat?"

"Probably still in the 'fresher." Mara watched in confusion as Luke hopped up and scurried into the refresher, returning with his hand digging into the deep pockets of the old coat.

"Look at this." He thrust a handful of coins into her outstretched palm.

Mara turned one of the coins over, not sure what he was referring to.

"It's a deka," Luke pointed out.

"I gathered that much," she retorted. "So?"

"Look at the symbol on the back," he went on, his excitement obvious in his voice.

Mara flipped the deka to its reverse side, and studied the vaguely familiar emblem. "I've seen this before, I'm sure. I just can't..."

"It's the mark of the Old Republic!" Luke knelt back beside her, fidgeting with exuberance at his discovery.

Mara glanced at his flushed face, then squinted once more in the dim light at the enigma in her hand. "I'm sure you have some theory dreamed up for this, so you might as well spit it out," she groused, as she thought up and rejected several explanations in her own mind.

"Don't you see?" He pulled out a coin for himself. "This proves that this planet has ties to the rest of the galaxy."

"But these people have never heard of Coruscant, or any other planet. They don't even know there is such a thing as space travel," Mara objected.

"_These_ people don't, but their ancestors had to." Luke's eyes sparkled as he outlined his hypothesis. "I think centuries ago, maybe even a millennia, settlers started a colony on this planet, and have been cut off from the rest of the galaxy ever since."

"But even so, they had to arrive in a ship. They had to come from another planet somewhere."

"That had me puzzled, too, but then I started learning the family names of some of the villagers, and several of them sounded familiar. I think I even recognized the name Zembuhl when I first heard it."

"Go on." The name of the village had tugged at her mind also, but she hadn't thought it significant enough to mention.

"I remember reading in school about a group of dissidents, around five hundred years ago, who rejected everything associated with modern civilization. They were quite radical; didn't believe in any kind of technology. They formed a kind of cult, and included several prominent citizens ― Lenzel, Zuleta, Abera, Modesa..." He rocked back on his heels. "Hiley Lenzel, Efam Zuleta, Jaco Modesa..."

"Merta's last name is Abera, and she did tell me her family has been here twenty generations, which could be around five hundred years," Mara put in, her voice laced with wonder. "And Zembuhl..."

"Was the leader of the cult," Luke finished. "I remember the group disappeared without a trace. Some thought they'd all committed suicide. I think, somehow, they found this planet, and put down roots."

"But the villagers should still be aware of..."

"Not if the original members made a pact never to pass down any knowledge of the galaxy to their children," Luke reasoned.

"But they're using a Republican symbol on their coins. That wouldn't make sense."

Luke shrugged. "Maybe someone years ago accidentally saw it on something, and no one even knew what it stood for anymore."

Mara nodded slowly in agreement. "After the founders died off, the succeeding generations would have no way to even suspect there were beings on other planets." She pursed her lips in thought. "But surely they would eventually evolve, on their own, to..."

"We don't know how primitively the first group lived. It's possible that they have been progressing at a natural rate."

"And the ship they first arrived in?"

"Most likely destroyed, to prevent anyone from changing their mind."

"What planet was this Zembuhl from?" Mara asked, trying to link all the clues together. "Somewhere with humans that spoke Basic, I take it?"

Luke searched his memory. "Mosigori, I think. Most of the group was from there..." he trailed off, as another thought struck him. "In fact, we had a pilot in Green Wing from Mosigori ― Wal Gypend ― and he had a similar accent." He looked up, grinning. "As a veteran of Green Wing, perhaps you remember him, Lieutenant Maiwara?"

"Very funny, flyboy." Mara stuck out her tongue at Luke for bringing up the fake identity she'd used the first day she met him, deep in an Imperial prison cell. "Speaking of accents, Aerie told me I talk funny."

"No funnier than me." Luke laughed. "Yeah, I've gotten some comments about my speech, too."

Mara leaned back, contemplating the possibilities. "So you think we're the first people to land here in five centuries?"

"This planet wasn't on any star charts, didn't even show up on the scopes until we were practically on top of it. We only stumbled on it because I could sense it through the Force. I doubt many ships ever venture into this nebula."

"If the founders wanted a good hiding place, they certainly found it." She looked up at Luke's self-satisfied smirk, his confidence shining through that they had solved the mystery of their hosts. "The only question I have is, how did you recall all these details? I had galactic history lessons too, from the best tutors, but I didn't remember all those names and other particulars."

He gave her an easy smile. "You probably weren't starved for information growing up like I was. I soaked up every scrap of knowledge I could lay my hands on. And the idea that a whole group of men and women would reject the very things I was dying to experience ― well, I guess that just stuck with me."

"So now what do we do, after we leave here? Who should we tell? And how do you propose we let these villagers know about the rest of the galaxy?"

Luke frowned in consternation. "I don't think we should tell anyone, here or anywhere else."

"But, Luke..."

"These people are happy here. They're satisfied with their lives." He shook his head. "They've never known war or suppression. Their biggest problem is whether someone will get bonded so they can have a good harvest. Mara, if we introduce them to the rest of civilization, they could lose all that."

"I see your point, though I'm not sure I agree." She bit her lip, contemplating his reasoning. "They would have relatives who may be interested in learning what happened to their ancestors."

"Relatives twenty generations removed," he reminded her.

Mara finally exhaled in acquiescence. "Okay, I'll yield to your wisdom, just this once." She wagged her finger at him before leaning back into his embrace.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Mara suddenly spoke up a few minutes later, though she didn't loosen her hold around his waist.

"Hmmm?"

"Are Alliance pilots allowed to get married? It's generally frowned upon, for Imperial pilots. Supposedly it decreases their efficiency in combat. I've even heard tales of men being executed for getting married without permission." She raised her head, watching his face as he answered.

"I don't think they'll take me out and shoot me," he joked, but there was no mirth in his eyes. It still pained him to remember how Palpatine had subjugated Mara to service in that brutal regime. He drew up his knees and held her a little tighter as he continued. "It's not encouraged for pilots to have families, but it's not forbidden either. During the war many troopers had spouses and children left behind at home. Sometimes, I think they were the ones who fought the hardest, because they had the most to lose."

"So there won't be any flak when we return?"

Luke gave a light chuckle. "Only if I can't manage to salvage this Lorrd mission." He sighed quietly. "It's not actually going to matter, anyway."

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"Because I'm going to resign from the military when we return. I had already decided that before we left."

Mara abruptly sat up, startled by his unexpected announcement. "You are? Don't you think this is something we should discuss together?"

"Did you want me to stay in the squadron?"

"No, not really. I've been surprised you've stayed this long. I just thought..."

"I wasn't keeping it a secret, though I haven't told anyone else." Luke trailed one hand suggestively over her slim shoulder and down her arm. "I've just had other things on my mind lately."

She swatted his hand away in feigned impatience and got back to the business at hand. "You're straying off course here. What are you going to do if you're not working for the Alliance?"

Luke shifted a little before answering. "I had intended to go off on my own, and do some Jedi research. But... this is our future now, not just mine." He paused hesitantly. "What do you think? What do you want to do?"

Mara leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I want to share your life, Luke, share in the joys of new discoveries and the frustrations of disappointments. You've been putting the Jedi side of you on hold for too long. Besides, spending more time out in the galaxy, away from Coruscant, sounds very appealing." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it softly. "So what kind of research are we going to do?"

Luke stroked her cheek lightly. "Oh, look for anything about the Jedi of the Old Republic. Hidden records, maybe a treasure chest full of training manuals," he said with a wink.

"Sweetheart, I'm afraid the Emperor was pretty thorough in destroying everything."

"Hmmm." Luke pulled her closer. "I like the sound of that."

Mara cupped his chin before he could return a kiss. "You like the sound of Palpatine destroying Jedi records?"

"No." He broke free to descend on her mouth, his hand running up and down her back. "I like hearing you call me sweetheart."

"Humph." Mara gave a weak protest as he began nuzzling her neck. "I might be able to get into some of the Emperor's private files," she went on, determined to keep the conversation on track. "We'd be able to eliminate locations where the purges were complete."

"That would be helpful," Luke whispered in her ear, nibbling on it at the same time.

"Maybe we'd even be... able... to..." Mara let out a small moan as Luke's hands roamed over her body.

"Able to what?" Luke wanted to prove he was paying attention. Those split concentration exercises were finally coming in handy.

"To find locations on his agenda that... he hadn't... gotten to... yet..." A ragged breath escaped Mara. Why hadn't she paid more attention when he'd nagged her about practicing split concentration? "Didn't you want to talk about Jedi research?" she managed to get out.

"Later." Luke devoured her mouth with his own as one hand tentatively edged up under her nightgown.

(I thought you wanted to wait until we were married,) Mara sent, somewhat reluctantly.

Luke stopped abruptly. "I..." He pulled back, breathing heavily as waves of discomfort flowed through him. "I'm sorry, Mara." He looked deep into her sparkling emerald eyes. "I just... can't help..."

Mara grabbed his hand back, kissing his palm tenderly. "Luke, don't ever apologize for wanting me."

He pulled her tightly against him, smothering her with an unabashed embrace. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, burying his head in her silky hair.

"Be that as it may..." She managed to pull back enough to kiss his forehead. "You've got me, and you're stuck with me. Now," she cracked a smirk, "I think it's time we went to bed."

Luke allowed her to wriggle free, and they helped each other to their feet. "And that's supposed to get my mind off of sex?" he groused, as they slipped under the down-filled comforter. "With you lying next to me, all warm and soft..."

Mara scooted back a bit, breaking contact with his body. "You just have to not think of me like that. For two more nights, anyway." She grinned to herself as he buried his head in a pillow. "Concentrate on some repulsive image of me."

Luke turned his head enough to stare at her with one eye. "You're joking, right? There is no such thing."

"Of course there is. Everybody has some unattractive attribute."

He narrowed his eye suspiciously. "I suppose you've already got some disgusting image of me running through your head."

"Well..." she drawled. "You were kind enough to let me witness you puking into a bucket. That wasn't exactly a turn-on."

"Glad I could oblige," he deadpanned, his voice muffled once more by the pillow. "But I'm not sure even that would work in your case."

Mara turned on her back, staring at the flames reflecting off the ceiling and feeling Luke's struggle to dampen down his yearnings. She wasn't at all sure she could resist, either, if he were any closer.

"I have a terrible temper," she said, finally coming up with an idea. "Picture me having an angry fit."

"You're beautiful when you're angry," he muttered.

"You...," Mara hissed. "All right, remember when we waded through the sewers, and I got that sludge all over my feet. There was nothing appealing about that."

"But it made you angry," Luke countered. "And you're beautiful when..."

"Okay, okay." This was exasperating. "Think about when I stalked you at Jabba's, and how much I wanted to kill you."

"You _are_ dangerous," Luke acknowledged with a feral grin. "Wild. Exciting." He rose up on one elbow and stroked her face. "Provocative. Tantalizing..."

"Skywalker!" She swatted him away, then fell back on the bed in a huff. "Maybe you should just think about yourself, spitting out those last dregs of—"

"Mara, this isn't going to work," he interrupted, having no intention of resorting to picturing his bout of nausea that evening.

"Do you have another solution?" she asked softly. "Other than going ahead and..."

"No," he whispered, rolling to face away from her.

Mara stared at the thin material of his shirt, now plastered to his clammy skin. "Luke?"

"Yes?" his motionless form returned.

"Why... have you never made love to a woman before?"

Luke was silent several moments before replying. "I hadn't met the right woman until I met you. It just never seemed..." He turned over once more to gaze at her lovely features in the flickering shadows. "You complete me. No one else ever came close, not in the way I'd always imagined lovers should be."

"What compelled you to suggest that we wait until our wedding?"

"I suppose," he began slowly, "it was something my uncle said to me once."

"Your Uncle Owen?" Mara blinked in surprise. "I thought all he did was scold you."

"Mostly, but this was one lecture that stuck with me. Maybe because for once he delivered it without raising his voice." Luke thought back in fond recollection. "When I was about fifteen or sixteen, there was another boy in Anchorhead who had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were discussing it over dinner, saying how the boy should have had more respect for the girl. I'm sure I must have made some condescending remark, about how that particular girl had never gone out of her way to earn any respect. Well, Uncle Owen very slowly laid down his fork and stared at me, and I knew I was in for it, again."

Luke rolled on his back, then reached over in the darkness and clasped Mara's hand. "He had me follow him outside, and we sat there in silence, watching the suns set. When he finally spoke, it was in this low, solemn voice I'd never heard him use before. He told me that all women were due the utmost consideration, no matter what. He said he understood how young men got... cravings... but that the act of sharing one's self, one's body, with a young lady was one of the most special things in the universe, and that it was paramount to make sure it was the right young lady. Anything less would only be shallow gratification. I can remember his next words verbatim ― 'Luke,' he said, 'the most honorable compliment you can bestow on a woman is to make love to her _after_ you've made your commitment of lifelong love to her.'"

Luke squeezed Mara's hand lovingly in the stillness of the room. "So when any of the guys tried to 'fix me up,' Uncle Owen's words would come back to me, and I would just know... that this wasn't the right girl for me."

"I'm glad you waited... for me," Mara murmured quietly.

"So am I," he whispered back. "Though I used to wonder if Uncle Owen's real motive was to prevent me from passing along any Force-strong genes through an unsuspecting girl."

"You were lucky, Luke, to have two people who cared for you so much."

"I know," he returned. "I only wish I had appreciated them more, before I lost them." He pushed an errant strand of red-gold hair away from Mara's somber face. "I'm sorry you never had parents or guardians like them when you were growing up."

Mara nodded in appreciation of his sensitivity. "All we can do is to make sure our children receive the best guidance we can offer."

"They will," he assured her. "Now what about you?" His voice lifted in spirit. "Didn't you have handsome men drooling over you? Besides the ones you were assigned to... eliminate. I know I've observed several of the pilots looking you up and down."

"Humph." Mara snorted. "Only until they see you giving them the 'evil eye.' No, no one ever interested me enough to consider sleeping with him, until you came along. Must be that farmboy innocence."

"Must be." Luke yawned sleepily. "Have we talked half the night?"

"Wasn't that the plan?" Mara stifled a yawn herself. "Keep talking till we're too tired to do anything else?"

"I think it nearly worked." Luke pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, Luke. I love you." Mara listened as Luke's quiet breathing settled into the peaceful rhythm of slumber. She could never thank the stars enough for giving her this exceptional man. He filled her empty soul like rare Alderaanian wine would fill an empty goblet. Would she ever feel worthy of his love?


	9. Chapter 9

**Now I've got you all worried that Luke and Mara will be growing old together stuck on Zembuhl! Thanks, Mara look-a-like, Elessar-Lover, Calli1, and Celtic Cross (yes, now I recognize you).**

**Warning: This chapter contains another one of those romantic scenes we all know and love. ;) **

**

* * *

**

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Nine**

Han Solo stood outside the door to Luke and Leia's apartment, waiting with as much patience as he could muster for the door to slide open. His anticipation of this evening's romantic rendezvous with Leia had been greatly curtailed, however, by a conversation that Chewbacca had entangled him in that afternoon, squashing Han's plans to take his relationship with the beautiful princess to an all-important next level. Han frowned as he lingered in the hallway, and recalled the Wookiee's unintentional meddling...

-------

_"Hey, Chewie, what's up?" Han greeted his co-pilot cheerfully upon entering the Falcon's hanger bay._

_Chewbacca backed his way carefully out of the tight confines of a service duct where he'd been laboring over the myriad of rerouted circuits that the ship was famous for._

_/'Where have you been? I've been cramped in this duct for hours, trying to undo the last mess you made.'/_

_Though Han knew the Wookiee's growl was worse than his bite, he recognized that tone in his friend's voice, and hurriedly rolled up his sleeves to pitch in._

_"I, ol' buddy, have been shopping," the Corellian boasted as he pulled out and reattached the tangled web of colored wires. "And wait till you see what I bought!"_

_/'A new ship?'/ Chewie teased._

_"New ship?__ You know there's not a finer piece of machinery to be had than what we have here." Han jerked back as a circuit sparked suddenly, smoke rising from its blackened spot. "No," he went on, determined to not let contrary circuitry dampen his spirits today. "I've been jewelry shopping, my friend."_

_/'You've decided to finally get a ring in your ear, like other pirates?'/_

_Ignoring Chewbacca's taunts, Han wiped his hands on an oily rag and reached into his pocket. Almost reverently, he opened a velvateen box and held it out for the Wookiee to inspect. "A betrothal ring, Chewie," Han pronounced. "I'm going to do it. Tonight. I'm going to ask Leia to marry me."_

_Chewie__ gave him an incredulous stare, momentarily at a loss for words._

_"Speechless, huh?"__ Han prattled on. "I can't wait to see the look on her face."_

_/'Are you sure... she'll accept?'/ was the first comment out of the Wookiee's mouth._

_Han's eyes narrowed defensively. "Of course she'll accept. She loves me. I love her. We were made for each other."_

_Chewie__ glanced up and down at Han's dirty, rumpled attire. /She's a princess, my friend./_

_Han brushed at a smudge on his shirt, suddenly feeling self-conscious. From out of nowhere, the teasing that he had subjected Luke to on the first day they'd met Leia echoed in his mind. _'What do ya think, a princess and a guy like me...?' 'No!'_But that was over four years ago. Luke's jealousy had luckily disappeared long ago, even before his relationship to Leia was discovered. Han was now a respected general. Who still dressed like a smuggler. Leia kept telling everyone she was no longer a princess. But she still had the classy, polished bearing and diplomatic deportment of royalty._

_Chewie__ studied the worried expression on his companion's face. He had committed himself to protecting the lanky Corellian. Surely that included doing his best to protect him from heartache. /And your love for each other will overcome any differences. I will dance at your wedding, my friend./_

_Han's taut mouth transformed into his familiar, lop-sided grin. "I'm counting on it, pal. And don't you worry, you and I will still be partners. When Leia marries me, she gets the whole package," he went on, sweeping one arm out to include both the Wookiee and his beloved ship._

_/I will continue to watch over her as I have you all these years/ the Wookiee vowed. /And also any cubs she will bear you./_

_"Cubs?__ Children?" Han paled slightly. "Don't rush things, furball." He picked up a hydrospanner and turned back to continue his repairs._

_/Luke was happy, I'm sure, at your news/ Chewie muttered behind Han. _

_"I'm sure he will be," Han's voice echoed from the service duct, "when I tell him."_

_/'Did you not ask his approval before he left?'/ _

_"What? What does this have to do with him?" Han jerked back, bumping his head in the process._

_/In many cultures, the prospective groom must first ask permission of the female's eldest male relative./_

_Han gave his friend a hard glare. "Corellia ain't one of them cultures, pal."_

_/But was Alderaan? You know how Leia feels about following her homeworld's customs./_

_"How should I know what Alderaan did?" He frowned at Chewbacca's unconvinced look. "If you think I'm consulting Threepio first, you're crazy."_

_/You could ask Lady Winter./_

_"I want this to be a surprise."_

_/Winter is very discreet. She would not reveal your inquiry to anyone./_

_"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wanted Leia to be the first to find out about this, not everyone else on Coruscant."_

_/'So why did you tell me?'/_

_"Good question, pal. Good question."_

_---------_

Han blew out a breath, and punched Leia's door announcer again. Much to his dismay, Winter had confirmed that it had been an ancient custom on Alderaan for a suitor to first receive permission from the patriarch of a family before approaching a young woman with an offer of marriage. Though the custom was rarely practiced in the last years of Alderaan's existence, the stately white-haired woman assured Han that someone of Leia's status would definitely be expected to adhere to the time-honored guideline. And, Winter added, Her Highness would be most impressed that Han had thought to investigate her world's rules of formal conduct.

The smuggler-turned-general patted his empty vest pocket disappointedly. No, there would be no marriage proposal until the errant Jedi got his rear end back home, and there'd better not dare be any question of turning Han down. In fact, it was probably fortuitous, in this regard, that Luke was Leia's only relative. Trying to imagine Bail Organa giving his blessing to a match between his daughter and a smuggler was nearly impossible. And if Vader had survived ― that scenario was just plain incomprehensible.

Suddenly the door in front of him swished open, causing Han to look down into the face of Leia Organa, a face that was decidedly haggard-looking.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted her, bending low to kiss her warmly on the lips.

"Hi, Han," Leia returned, stifling a low yawn.

"Did I wake you?" Han asked. It wasn't like Leia to be taking a nap this early in the evening, especially when she was expecting him for dinner.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, leading him into the common room. "I didn't sleep well last night, and I guess I fell asleep in my conform lounger."

"Something wrong?" Han wrapped one arm around her, drawing her close as they settled onto the nerf-hide couch.

Leia let a tired sigh escape her lips. "Not really. At least, I hope not."

"Let me guess," Han drawled. "You're worried about Luke. Haven't heard from him yet, huh?"

Leia's embarrassed grimace confirmed Han's astute observation.

"No." She shook her head, her silky hair undulating in waves past her shoulders. "I know he's a grown man, and you think he can take care of himself, but..."

"But you don't think he can, and you can't help feeling the kid's gotten himself in a jam again." Han rolled his eyes with practiced ease.

"He's not a kid," Leia protested in defense of her brother. "He's the same age as me."

"I've never thought of you as a kid." Han grinned, trying to lighten her mood. "I'll _always_ think of Luke as one."

"All the more reason to imagine him in some kind of trouble," she pointed out, twisting Han's logic back against him.

"Are we going out to dinner?" Han asked, doing his best to change the subject. He should have known Leia would still be anxious about Luke. Even if Han had proposed, she would probably want to wait for her brother's safe return before giving an answer.

"Oh," Leia replied with a moan. "I forgot all about dinner. I suppose I could have the kitchen droid whip up something. I really don't feel like going out." She let another yawn escape. "Then maybe after dinner..." Leia smiled at Han, trying to look suggestive, but the bags under her weary eyes made her tension and fatigue evident.

Han shook his head. "After dinner you're going straight to bed. Alone."

"Oh, Han, I'm sorry," Leia apologized. "We don't get that many nights together, and I'd love for you to stay..."

"But you're dead-tired, and you need your rest," Han said gallantly, kissing her softly on the forehead. He and Leia had been intimate on more and more occasions lately, and he treasured every moment they shared. But staying the night when she was already exhausted, and knowing that all her thoughts were revolving about Luke, was not something he found inviting.

Leia reached up and stroked his rugged cheek. "Thank you, Han," she whispered. "Thank you for understanding. I promise, as soon as I know Luke is safe..."

"Shhhh," he returned. "You just get some sleep. I'll take a raincheck on dinner." He rose and pulled her up with him, then guided her toward her bedchamber. "Let me tuck you in, Your Highnessness, and I'll see you tomorrow."

After changing into a modest nightgown, she slipped into the welcoming bed and allowed him to pull the covers around her. "I love you, Han," Leia said sleepily.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Han responded, giving her one last kiss. Leia was already asleep as he straightened, brushing her glossy hair back from her beautiful face.

Han exhaled deeply as he let himself out. Blast that Luke! How could one kid spoil an evening in so many ways, without even being there? Han jokingly swore a Corellian curse that Luke Skywalker, wherever he was, would have no more romantic success than Han himself was encountering.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Merta paced anxiously from her kitchen to the bottom of the stairs and back again.

_Where was the lass?_

The dining table had been cleared, the dishes had been washed, the rest of the guests had dispersed for the day's activities.

_Where was she?_

The matronly innkeeper paused briefly at the bottom of the stairway, one age-spotted hand resting on the rounded baluster. She didn't make it a practice to intrude on guests' privacy. But how long must she wait?

_Pace.__ Pace. Pace._

Merta glanced for the tenth time at the spring-wound timepiece on the mantle in the dining chamber, then stalked back to the stairs and started up. Confound that girl! Privacy or no privacy, she and Miss Mara needed to be on their way _now_!

―――――

Luke's eyes blinked open and his head jerked off the soft, faded pillow. Knocking... Someone... was knocking...

"What in blazes is that racket!"

Luke twitched at the grumpy muffled voice next to him, then sleepily eased out of bed. "Hold on, I'll check," he answered, yawning. He squinted in the fierce sunlight streaming through the window. How late had they slept?

Merta raised her hand for another rap when the door swung open without warning.

"Uhh,... Merta,... good morning." Luke did his best not to frown. Just because they missed breakfast, their host was coming to get them?

"It be closer to noon than mornin', lad." Merta peered over Luke's shoulder at the still occupied bed, then brought her gaze back to the young man clad in rumpled sleepclothes. "Were ye two gonna stay in bed all day?"

"Uhh... uhh..." Now Luke was really confused. "Was there someplace we were supposed to be?" he finally asked, after frantically racking his brain.

"Not ye." Merta took a step into the room without waiting for an invitation, prompting Luke to reflexively retreat backwards. She rested her hands on her hips and tapped one foot impatiently. "Yer lass."

Mara had clambered out of bed by now, straightening out her twisted nightgown with one hand as she hastily grabbed up a skirt and blouse with the other. "Oh, stars, Merta, I forgot," the redhead called over her shoulder in apology. "We stayed up half the night, and were just so tired... I'll be ready in a flash."

Merta and Luke both watched as Mara rushed into the bathing chamber, the door slamming behind her. The young Jedi turned to the older woman, the bewildered expression having never left his face. "What did she forget?"

"Dress fittin'."

"Oh." He glanced a moment at the closed side door, then looked back apologetically. "We really were up late," he practically whispered. "Talking," he added in afterthought. "We stayed up talking."

A wry grin appeared on Merta's countenance, replacing the stern demeanor she had been displaying. "Whatever ye say, lad. 'Tis none of me business." She turned back toward the entryway. "Tell Mara I'll be waitin' fer her in the kitchen." She gave Luke another once-over. "And if ye be of a mind to get dressed, too, I've got a list o' chores I'd 'preciate yer help with."

The request for assistance jolted the sluggish Jedi into action. He was already pulling a clean set of borrowed clothes from the old-fashioned dresser when he heard the bedroom door creak shut.

How could she stay annoyed at those two young people, Merta thought with a smile as she shuffled down the steep steps. They could raise the spirits of the most hardhearted ogre. A softy like herself didn't stand a chance.

―――――

Luke and Mara clattered side-by-side down the well-worn stairs only moments after their landlady, their hips jostling each other with an amiable familiarity. The pair's laughter brought Merta to the doorway of the kitchen just as they pulled up short inside the dining chamber. She smiled as she watched the young woman brush Luke's unruly hair out of his eyes.

"Did you even comb this mop when you got up?" Mara scolded, her own red-gold curls swinging in a hastily fashioned ponytail.

Luke grinned at her fussing. "Haven't we slept together enough times for you to know that my hair is not a priority for me in the morning?"

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Sweetheart, it's never a priority for you."

Luke's arm snaked around Mara's waist as he returned a chaste kiss. "I figure one of us in the family with beautiful hair is enough."

Merta cleared her throat, endeavoring to make her presence known to the young couple. "Ah, here ye be." She glanced at Luke, pretending not to notice as he swiftly ran his fingers through his hair. "Ye sure ye don't mind doin' a few repairs while we're gone?"

"No, not at all," Luke assured her, though his attention shifted to the delectable aroma wafting through the doorway, reminding him they'd missed breakfast. "I want to help."

"Farmboy's not happy if he's not lending a hand some way or another," Mara put in.

"Well, in that case..." Merta laughed and ushered them into the kitchen. "I imagine ye'll work better on a full stomach." She passed a pan of freshly baked muffins to her ravenous-looking boarders. As they each gratefully took one, Merta pointed to the primitive pump, water trickling down its side.

"It's been leakin' o' late, and the pump in room six has also been actin' up, and there be a couple o' broken hinges on the shutters out front..." She continued to rattle off her dictation of tasks as Luke listened attentively. "Do ye think ye'd be able to fix all that, lad?"

"Oh, don't worry," Mara exclaimed before Luke could reply, patting his arm patronizingly. "Luke can fix _anything_!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was late afternoon when Luke and Mara finally saw each other again. Luke had managed to complete all of Merta's repair jobs, despite the primitive tools she'd given him, and he was more than ready to spend some quality time with his fiancée.

"So," Luke called over his shoulder to the woman leaning against the refresher's door jamb, "what would you like to do your last evening as a free woman?" Not receiving an immediate response, he paused from his attempt to wash the grime from under his fingernails, and turned to face her. "Mara?"

She gave him a cool stare. "I will always be a free woman, Jedi," she bit out, the strain of keeping her voice calm more than evident. "Being married to you won't mean you own me. Never again..." Her voice faltered as she dropped to a whisper. "Never again will I allow anyone to control me."

Startled by her unexpected reaction to his obviously poor choice of words, Luke quickly wiped his hands on a towel and crossed the space between them in two long strides. "That's not what I meant." His rueful expression begged for forgiveness. "I would never try to control you."

Mara resisted looking into his azure eyes, knowing she would see only hurt and distress in their unfathomable depths. She felt ashamed of the accusation she had knowingly insinuated, but the words had tumbled out nonetheless. "I know, Luke, I know." She tentatively gripped his outstretched hands, but still wouldn't meet his gaze. "It's just... I was a slave to Palpatine for so long, and I was finally beginning to know what it felt like to be my own person... and now..."

"You will always be your own person, Mara," Luke interjected quietly. She didn't balk as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. "If you... ever... feel like I'm stifling your life, and you think we should... be apart... for a while, I'd... I'd understand."

_No, you wouldn't,_ Mara thought as she laid her head on his shoulder. _I wouldn't want you to understand._

Luke bent down and kissed her gently, then backed her against the wall, their joined hands pressed to the smooth painted surface on either side of her shoulders. (I love you,) he sent, as he lowered his forehead to meet hers. By unspoken mutual consent, they both opened themselves fully to the Force, allowing its inexhaustible strength and delicate caress to weave a tapestry of serenity and euphoria through their bodies.

It flickered across both their minds simultaneously that, though they had professed their love and become engaged in recent days, they had not exercised this wondrous aspect of their Force bond since the morning of their near-crash landing on this planet. Realization, and relief, spread through them that their love was not dependant on, or even a result of, their connection in the Force. The mystical power refreshed and comforted them, guided and aided them, but would never control them.

Mara snapped her eyes open, holding onto Luke's steady gaze. Just as Luke would never control her; nor she, him.

(I love you,) Mara returned Luke's affirmation. He nodded silently with a smiling acknowledgment, and shifted closer still to the woman he cherished. Clammy palms separated, and eager hands moved of their own accord across the two compressed bodies.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Mara finally found the breath to murmur between their fervent kisses.

"Shhhh." He brushed her lips with his fingertips. "I know." He gave her a slightly embarrassed grin. "Don't think I haven't had misgivings myself."

He laughed lightly as she pulled back with an incredulous "You?"

"That's what happens when you leave me here alone all day, working with my hands. Gives me too much time to think."

"Shifted into Skywalker daydreaming mode?" His twinkling smile assured her of his unwavering resolve to marry her, but didn't dissolve her curiosity. "And just what type of doubts did that wandering mind of yours conjure up?"

Luke slipped his hands down to her waist, and a melancholy shadow darkened his normally bright features. "No uncertainties about you, believe me. But... even before I asked you to marry me... I would wonder..." He let go of her and stepped back.

"Go on," Mara prompted.

He bit his lower lip, then plunged ahead. "I've wondered if marriage, now, is the right path for me."

"You wondered if you should have a wife distracting you from your life's work."

"Not distracting me," Luke contradicted, remembering when he'd told her in Coruscant's underground that he couldn't let himself be distracted. "I beg you to forget I ever used that word." He gave her a loving squeeze. "I guess it was our talking last night about pilots having families that started me thinking about this again. Neither Yoda nor Ben ever mentioned anything about Jedi being married. I assume at least some of them were; of course, there were lots of Jedi during the days of the Old Republic. Now..."

"Now there's only you, charged with rebuilding the order all by yourself ― a task which requires your complete devotion. You can't afford to be preoccupied with a wife, especially one who flies off the handle at the drop of a hat, or be sidetracked by children who'll demand your attention."

"Mara." He brought her chin up with a feather touch of his fingers and gave her a warm smile. "I thrive on being sidetracked and preoccupied." He ignored her teasing snicker. "I've recognized the fact that now I'll have you to encourage me and propel me and advise me. And if I make any major blunders, I can just say..."

"It's all my wife's fault!" Mara finished for him, and they burst into a fit of giggling. The pair stumbled across the bedroom, both nearly bent over double with laughter, and perched themselves on the edge of the bed.

"That demented Jedi sense of humor must be rubbing off on me," Mara wailed playfully, wiping at the tears trickling down her cheeks. She flopped on her back heavily, the mattress bouncing in response.

"I think it's you influencing me," Luke countered. "I've laughed more in the last two months with you than I have in the last four years," he wheezed, twisting around and launching himself to lie next to her.

"I never laughed until I met you," Mara rejoined, sobering slightly as she considered her words. "Never." She languidly rolled her head to the side and gazed at Luke, who was lying on his side, regarding her with an ardent fascination.

"I hope we find some occasion to laugh together every day for the rest of our lives," he murmured, reaching out to trail two fingers across her small waist, then up and down her ribcage. He smiled faintly as she squirmed beneath his touch.

"And if we don't, you'll tickle me until it happens!"

"If necessary," he confirmed, jerking back suddenly as Mara endeavored to grab his wandering hand.

"This new golden rule of the Skywalkers will work both ways, you know," she reminded him, zeroing in on his ticklish spots that only she was privy to. With a lightening fast whirl, Mara rolled on top of Luke, pinning him to the bed.

He didn't seem to mind in the least.

"Your skirt is all tangled," he commented huskily, their titillating frolicking already forgotten. He tugged on the heavy fabric, making no attempt to straighten it out.

Mara leaned up on her elbows, her whole body aware of the synchronous pounding of their hearts.

"Your shirt is too tight around your neck," she breathed in response, her slim fingers deftly unfastening several buttons. Luke watched her a moment, then closed his eyes and hugged her tightly as she pulled his collar aside and softly caressed his neck with her lips and tongue.

"Mara, please," he moaned, his hands roaming desirously across her shifting body and through her sensuous hair.

Raising up just enough to undo another button, Mara's lips continued to savor the saltiness of his smooth skin.

Luke's mind kept telling him this wasn't the right time. _Not yet. Not_ _yet._ But "We shouldn't..." was as much as his voice was able to choke out, even as his straying fingers were maneuvering to wedge themselves between the two writhing bodies and open a few buttons of their own.

Mara abruptly stopped her ministrations the moment she felt Luke's touch inside her garment. Shuddering deeply, she buried her face in Luke's shoulder, a groan of pleasure mixed with regret escaping her. (I'm corrupting you,) she sent guiltily, gripping his upper arms in a vise-like hold.

Luke pulled back his own transgressing hands and clutched the back of her wrinkled blouse. "You're not the only culpable party here," he whispered, recognizing his own lustful cravings. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remained motionless under the weight of his would-be lover's tantalizing body. He didn't trust himself not to react if either of them shifted even slightly.

How long they remained inert neither of them could have guessed. Nor could they have pinpointed just when their ragged breathing finally slowed to a palsied whimper. The thoughts that filled both their minds alternated between disappointment and anticipation.

It was Luke who finally breached the oppressive silence, and even then Mara had to strain to hear his muffled words.

"A Jedi should have better control," he murmured, tightening his embrace.

For a brief moment, Mara wondered if he was talking about himself, or her.

"We're also a man and a woman, on the eve of our wedding. It's only human nature..." Raising up slightly, she had to fight the urge to cover him with fervent kisses. "Luke, we could go ahead... I mean, I wouldn't think any less of you if we..."

"We promised ourselves," he croaked, summoning the courage to gaze into her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes. "Not a very auspicious beginning for a marriage, if we start breaking vows already."

Mara cupped his pleading face with her trembling hands. He was right; she hated it when he was right. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, struggling to keep at bay the tears she dreaded would fall.

"Hey, there," Luke said softly, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek. "Never apologize for wanting me," he said with a wink, throwing back her own admonition from the previous night. His attempt to lighten the mood was successful, as she laughed quietly and laid her head back upon his welcoming shoulder. The tension gradually evaporated as they hugged each other warmly.

"Mara?"

She lifted her head just enough for her penitent emerald eyes to gaze into his hopeful sapphire ones. "Yes?"

"Promise me you'll corrupt me ... tomorrow."

This brought a relieved smile to her weary face. "With pleasure, my love. With pleasure."

That simple acquiescence was all it took for Luke to hungrily devour her mouth. His hands tightened their grip on her clothing and he pivoted their once-more inflamed bodies onto their sides. Panting as hard as he was, Mara pushed him away ever so slightly.

"Luke..." she chided reluctantly.

He finally relinquished his hold, and rolled dejectedly onto his back. "Why can't these people have the courtesy to schedule bondings at the beginning of their festival?"

Mara laughed at his grumbling. "Ahh, that famous Jedi patience."

"You better keep looking if you expect to marry a patient Jedi," came the forlorn response, as Luke ruefully rubbed his eyes. "Especially when it comes to you."

Sighing, Mara sat up and scooted to the edge of the high bed, her crossed ankles dangling just above the floor. "We are so pathetic," she lamented. "How are we ever going to make it through tonight?"

Luke pushed himself to stand, facing out into the center of the room, his backside pressed against the mattress. "Tonight, we are going to lie side by side in this bed," he declared, turning to point a finger at the tempting piece of furniture, "and wallow in our self-induced misery." He reached for his heavy jacket. "And we're going to keep telling ourselves we'll be stronger for it."

"And thank ourselves while we're at it?" Mara returned with a snort. "Is this some perverse Jedi training drill on self-control?"

"If it is, my prospects for having a lot of eager students don't look too bright." He flashed her an amused grin. "C'mon, let's go take a walk. I think we can use some cold, fresh air."

"I think you're right," Mara agreed, already pulling on her shawl.

When the pair exited the front door of the boarding house, their parallel thinking diverged into two different directions. Mara turned right, yanking Luke's clasped hand as he headed left.

"Where are you going?" she groused, her grin betraying her amusement of Luke's bewilderment.

"I thought we were going for a walk," he contended. "That way." He gestured toward the outskirts of the village.

"But the Festival," she pointed her index finger in the opposite direction, "is that way."

"You... _You_...," Luke stuttered in mock confusion, "_want_... to go to the Festival?" He began to snicker as Mara's eyes narrowed to gleaming slits.

"And what's so preposterous about that?" She parked balled fists on her swaying hips, even as she leaned forward to within centimeters of Luke's face. "Hmmm?"

"Nothing. Not a thing." He kissed her nose lightly. "A perfectly logical proposal."

"Humph." Mara tugged her more-than-willing fiancé in her chosen direction. "Unlike someone I know who spent last evening setting a new personal record for alcohol consumption, I had an enjoyable time at this little celebration. Force knows we'll never be able to experience anything like this on Coruscant."

Luke inexplicably began to chuckle to himself as they strolled along, nodding and smiling to the passing villagers.

"Now what's so funny?" Mara asked, though she had an idea what he was thinking about.

"Just reflecting on how much you've changed since I met you," he responded, his familiar grin warming her heart. "The Mara Jade I pretended to be enamored with in the palace would never have been anxious to go to a country festival."

"'Pretended' to be enamored with?" Mara teased. "You don't expect me to believe that line, do you?"

Luke only shrugged and grinned again, not rising to her baiting.

Mara sighed, letting him be as they walked, swinging their joined hands. "I guess it's pointless to deny you're right," she admitted. "I have changed. I don't even like to think about the way I was, the things I've done. It's easier to pretend that was some other woman, not me." She glanced aside at his gentle face. "And I promise to do my best to keep changing, and evolving, into someone worthy of a Jedi Knight."

"No. Don't." He startled her with his protest, and they both paused in the middle of the cobblestone street, oblivious to the stares of the passersby. "I don't want you to change any more." His soft voice was almost a plea. "You're perfect for me now, just the way you are."

Luke suddenly laughed to himself again, as if thinking of some private joke. Mara raised an eyebrow expectantly, but didn't badger him for an explanation this time, though he supplied one anyway.

"Leia confided to me once that Han is convinced she loves him because he's a scoundrel. He supposedly told her there weren't enough scoundrels in her life."

"And being her twin, you had to go out and find a scoundrel for yourself."

"I've never thought of you that way," he said, smiling. "But you have to admit, we do encounter occasional differences of opinion." He winked conspiratorially. "I rather enjoy them."

Mara knew that he meant it, despite Yoda's admonition of not craving excitement.

"I've had it on good authority," he went on, "that a sharp-tongued wife keeps a spark in a marriage."

Mara laughed loudly, continuing their cheerful banter as they started walking again. "Is that so? A sample of Zembuhl philosophy?" At his light-hearted shrug, she went on. "I guess we'll just have to start those sparks flying tomorrow night, farmboy."

"I can hardly wait," he murmured in a husky voice, slipping one arm around her waist and hugging her close as they reached the gaily-lit confines of the Winter Festival.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks to Elessar-Lover, random-idiot, and Celtic Cross for your reviews. And welcome and thanks to Mark C. for your reviews of the earlier chapters. I appreciate it!**

**

* * *

**

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Ten**

The engaged couple's first destination at the Festival was the frozen pond, where Mara introduced Luke to the fine art of ice gliding. Luke took a liking to the unique activity immediately, grumbling in protest when Mara called a halt to the exercise, until he realized she was directing him toward the many food booths erected around the grounds. After sampling every confectionery, sweetmeat, and puff-torte that was thrust into their outstretched palms, he and Mara strolled over to the inviting atmosphere of the Lucky Red Bone Pub. It was there that the tranquil, idyllic image of the peaceful planet was marred.

―――

"Look, there's Aerie," Mara noted, sweeping her gaze across the crowded room as she and Luke stood in the doorway. "And that must be her husband."

"Yes, that's Jaco," Luke confirmed, raising his hand in greeting to his new friend. "Let's see if we can find a place to sit near them."

There were, in fact, two vacant seats at the Modesas' small table, and Aerie insisted the newcomers join them.

"Aerie, this is Luke." Mara made the brief introduction. "Luke, this is my friend Aerie whom I told you about."

"Pleased to meet you." Luke shook her hand warmly. "It sounded like you and Mara had a good time last night."

"Aye, we had a grand time," the blonde replied. "Mara could hardly keep from talking 'bout ye." As they all took their seats, Aerie whispered aside to Mara, "He's just as cute as ye said."

Luke, unfortunately, overhead Aerie's statement, and covered his embarrassed grin with one hand. He delighted in Mara's obvious discomfort, unaware that the tables were about to be turned.

"Mara, have ye met me husband Jaco?" Aerie continued, oblivious to the looks being exchanged by the other couple.

"Hello," Mara said simply, taking the proffered hand across the table. Her hopes that the young man would not remember her were soon dashed.

"Aye, yes," Jaco replied, returning her greeting. "Ye seem to be in a much improved mood than the last time I saw ye," he observed, to Mara's chagrin. After giving a sly look in Luke's direction, he added, "Luke musta taken our advice last night."

Luke's eyes grew wide and he shook his head worriedly, as Mara asked the inevitable "And what advice was that?" She took note of her fiancé slumping down in his chair. "Skywalker?"

"Nevermind," Luke mumbled, though he knew it was a hopeless request.

Mara then turned her determined attention back to Jaco, who suddenly wished he'd never brought up the subject. "What kind of recommendations were you giving out? Does it concern me? Luke is rather impressionable, you know. He believes anything. And what makes you think he took this advice?"

"Uhh... uhh...," Jaco stuttered. "Perhaps I was mistaken." He leaned back in his seat in concert with Mara's leaning forward, her blazing eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Obviously Luke didn't take our advice at'all."

The Jedi slumped down even further, covered his face, and groaned.

Aerie turned to her husband. "Jaco Modesa, I want to know what ye're goin' on about. Is this so-called advice somethin' I should hear?"

"No!" Jaco and Luke both exclaimed simultaneously.

"Don't worry, Aerie. I'll wrangle it out of Luke tonight," Mara declared, shooting a confident glance Luke's way.

(Just drop it, Mara,) Luke pleaded silently.

(You know me better than that,... _darling_,) Mara replied in his mind, drawing out the last word teasingly.

"Be sure to let me know," Aerie said, laughing. "How did yer dress fittin' go this mornin', Mara?"

"That's right," Luke said, sitting up a little straighter and glad someone had the sense to change the subject. "You didn't tell me about that either."

"It went fine, Aerie," Mara replied. "I think the dress is going to look really nice. Filia's sister Lessie seems to be a fine seamstress. And you," she turned to Luke, "don't get to know anything about it."

A puzzled look crossed Luke's face. "Why not?"

"Men aren't allowed," Mara rejoined with a smirk, her satisfaction clearly showing at finding something that males couldn't participate in.

"But..."

"'Tis bad luck fer the groom to know anythin' 'bout the bride's dress," Aerie filled in.

Mara winked at Luke. (These bondings have more superstitions attached than you can shake a gaffi stick at.)

"Oh," Luke answered both the women at once. "So what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?" he asked, turning to Jaco for help. "Surely that's not a secret."

"I think they're figurin' on outfittin' ye in the suit I wore last year, at me and Aerie's bondin'," Jaco supplied.

"So..." Luke pondered thoughtfully. "I have to borrow clothes, but Mara gets something custom-made."

"That about sums it up," Mara gloated. "Poor baby," she added, eliciting a round of laughter from the table.

The two couples continued to enjoy each other's company. It was a rarity for Luke and Mara to relax with others their own age, sharing anecdotes and reminiscences, at least as much as they dared.

"Have ye been enjoyin' the Festival so far, Luke?" Aerie spoke up.

"Yes, very much so."

(Except for getting sick last night. You can't claim to have enjoyed that.)

Luke ignored Mara's silent interjection, and elaborated on his reply to Aerie. "Mara took me ice-gliding this evening, and that was quite an experience. I really liked it."

"Ye've never been before?"

Mara snorted before Luke could answer. "What do you expect from someone who grew up in a des—" She caught herself just in time. "...a desolate place like he did?"

Aerie looked at Mara curiously. "I didn't think you'd ever been glidin' before, either, Mara."

"Well, no," Mara backpedaled. "I guess you could say both our childhoods were rather bleak." She glanced around the room before Aerie could ask any more questions. "Say, what's going on over there?"

They all turned toward a far corner of the room, where a large crowd had gathered.

"Arm grapplin' match, from the looks of it," Jaco speculated. "They can get quite excitin'. Anybody up fer goin' to see who's winnin'?"

"What―?" Mara began, until Luke kicked her under the table.

(Just pretend you know what he's talking about,) he admonished silently. "Sure, let's go watch," he said to Jaco.

The quartet made their way across the room, squeezing in among the spectators for an observation spot of their own. They watched as two men sat down opposite each other at a small table, each resting one elbow on the table's surface and clasping hands tightly. At a signal from Efam, who was apparently the moderator, the men began pushing against each other's hand, muscles bulging with strain. Mara gave Luke a comprehending glance, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. They recognized the competition as being similar to ones that pilots and other bar patrons occasionally engaged in.

The contestants struggled for several minutes, one pressing the other's hand toward the tabletop, only to have the direction reversed as the weaker opponent got a burst of adrenaline and, with a loud grunt, forced the back of his rival's hand against the surface with a hard thump. Cheers echoed from bystanders evidently backing the winner, and Efam began doling out appropriate payoffs.

(Is this all these people do?) Mara sent silently. (Engage in mindless contests, and gamble?)

Luke winked in reply. (Only the men.)

Mara, Luke, and the Modesas continued watching several more rounds, with some lasting mere seconds, while other engagements seemed to go on forever.

"Who are those two fellows over there?" Luke asked Jaco, nodding toward a pair of burly men who were taking more than a casual interest in the current match. "I don't remember seeing them before." He frowned as the taller of the two, a rugged-looking man with an unkempt mustache, shot a lecherous glance Mara's direction.

"Those be the Pruden brothers, Eli and Odus," Jaco returned in a hushed voice. "And that's their cousin grapplin' now, the one with the beard. They're a rough bunch, they are. Live out in the wilderness, and only come into town a few times a year."

Luke moved slightly closer to his fiancée as he discerned the mustached brother again looking her way. He nearly missed Jaco's unexpected invitation.

"Would ye like to give it a try, Luke?"

"What?"

"They're calling fer new competitors. Would ye like—?"

"No," Luke cut him off. "I really don't think so."

"Yes, he would," Mara contradicted.

Astonishment plain on his face, Luke turned to the woman standing beside him. "You _want_ me to participate in this... grappling?"

Mara shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? Looks like fun. You're strong." She made a pretext of checking out the competition. "I'll bet you could beat anyone in here."

Jaco suddenly began to fidget and glanced aside at his wife.

"Ye can't be bettin', Mara," Aerie whispered. "Women ain't allowed..."

_Oh, no,_ Luke thought, and he saw that Jaco shared his concern. _Not again._

(Don't get all worried, farmboy,) the redhead sent. (I won't embarrass you by 'making a scene' this time.)

"It was a figure of speech," Mara assured her friend. "Seriously, Luke, I'd like to see how you measure up."

"You're joking," Luke blurted aloud before he could stop himself. (Mara, I don't think all this barroom competing is something a Jedi should be doing.)

(Didn't stop you last night.)

(That was different. That was skill, not just... brute strength.)

(I fail to see any difference,) Mara retorted. (Besides, we have the rest of our lives to be strait-laced Jedi. This is our vacation away from all that prim and proper comportment.)

Luke's mouth gaped slightly at her use of the words 'we' and 'Jedi' in the same sentence, reminding him that the Lorrdians were expecting Mara Jade to be a Jedi apprentice. Was the Force helping him out here? Had Mara subconsciously been rethinking her vow to never become a Jedi?

(They won't let me compete,) Mara was continuing silently, as she glanced around the room once more, (even though I'm sure I could take most of this crowd. So you,) she gave him a little shove toward the gaming table, (have to be my proxy.)

"You're not joking," Luke surmised vocally, noticing that his and Mara's overlong silent conversation had drawn a few curious stares.

"Of course not," she acknowledged. "Jaco, do you ever participate in grappling?"

"Well, I haven't in a good while," the dark-haired young man hedged.

"Ye invited Luke to have a go," Aerie pointed out to her husband. "It wouldna' be polite fer ye not to join in yerself."

Jaco reluctantly agreed, and as luck would have it, he and Luke found themselves paired up in the next match.

"Right or left?" Efam asked Luke, as the Jedi slowly seated himself across from his friend.

"Excuse me?"

"Do ye want to use yer right or left hand?" the pub owner repeated. "Since yer the newcomer, ye get to decide."

"Oh, uh, left," Luke murmured. He copied the actions of Jaco, who was rolling up his own left sleeve.

"Stang, I didn't think about..." Mara muttered to herself, suddenly realizing that, even without the Force, Luke's prosthetic right hand could easily give him an advantage. Not to mention the possibility that someone might notice the minute seam where it attached to his wrist.

"This is lucky," Aerie was saying next to her, jolting Mara from her thoughts. "Jaco is left-handed, too."

With one last 'why are you making me do this' frown at Mara, Luke gripped his friend's hand, and held steady against Jaco's energetic push.

(I expect you to do your best,) Mara ordered silently. (No just letting him win.)

Luke spared her a vexed look, but didn't reply.

The contest was short-lived, with Luke effortlessly pressing Jaco's hand completely down within moments.

"Sorry about that," Luke apologized to his comrade, who unexpectedly laughed in return.

"Don't be sorry, chum. With yer strength, I can't believe I lasted as long as I did."

Luke nodded, but when he started to rise, Efam's large hand on his shoulder held him in place.

"Where do ye think yer goin'? There already be challengers lined up clear back to the bar." The pub owner grinned broadly. "We all know Jaco's no pushover. I 'spect I won't be able to keep up with all the bettin' that'll be commencin'. Now, as defendin' winner, it's yer pick. Did ye want to stay with yer left?"

"Yes," Luke murmured, already regretting his letting Mara talk him into this. The emanation of displeasure he sent her way was heightened when he saw a certain Pruden brother now practically rubbing shoulders with his wife-to-be. He watched as Mara picked up on his sense and then turned to spear her stalker with a haughty glare.

Somewhat mollified, Luke turned his attention back to systematically dispatching all his competitors, young or old, wiry or stout. The shorter Pruden brother, Eli, proved to be a more capable adversary than his predecessors, but even he was soon felled by the Jedi's sinewy muscles.

"Have ye worked up a thirst yet?" Filia came forward with a mug of ale for Luke.

"No thanks." He quickly turned down the offer. He wasn't about to start down that path again. Filia had barely walked away when Luke's attention was snagged by a jolt of exasperation lurching out of Mara. Odus Pruden was attempting to engage Mara in an anything-but-meaningful conversation, and the former assassin glowered with repulsion as she brushed him off. Luke rose from his chair, his face a mask of stone, but he did not approach them. Mara's admonition outside the Ranat Roost on Coruscant, scarcely more than a week ago, surfaced in his mind, and Luke tempered his apprehensive concern. Mara would surely take umbrage if he jumped to her defense. She didn't need his help; she didn't want his help. Luke wasn't going to risk losing his bride by losing his temper.

Murmurs ran through the gathering as Odus stalked away from Mara's rebuff and toward the grappling table. Luke stood motionless, waiting, his hands seizing the corners of the table in a vice-like hold.

"Yer woman was downright rude to me," the craggy-faced man sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "I'd a thought a tough man like ye would teach her better manners. But maybe it's cause yer no more than a boy."

"Leave her alone." Luke's voice was even and controlled, but his grip on the table tightened.

"I will," Odus vowed insolently, "if ye kin beat me." He yanked out the empty chair and sat down heavily. "Course, forcin' ev'rybody to fight left-handed weighs in yer favor, don't it, boy?"

The sound of a loud crack suddenly echoed through the pub, followed by spectators' gasps as a broken chunk of wood skittered across the tabletop out of Luke's right hand. "I'm right-handed, actually." He made the statement as a simple fact, but the underlying intimidation was there. "Your choice."

"Luke..." Mara started forward, but halted as Luke's silent voice reached her.

(You started this, Mara. I'm finishing it.)

Mara looked into his eyes, his soul. He was calm, resolute, and in complete control. Not a trace of the dark side tainted his aura. She nodded to him and stepped back. Luke settled into his chair, Pruden's long legs grazing his own under the tiny table.

"Left, then," Odus snarled, lifting his brawny forearm into position, and no doubt thinking Luke's left arm was bound to be tired by now.

Luke was equally relieved by the choice. Better not to have the temptation of crushing the boor's hand.

Wiping the sweat accumulated from past opponents onto his pants, Luke seized the grimy hand of his crass antagonist, whose outstretched reach was considerably longer than his own. The muscular Pruden strained against the slender Jedi. Luke kept his eyes focused on his foe, gauging his strength, watching for deception. If Odus was unnerved by Luke's stare, he gave no indication.

"Bear down, Luke." "Put yer weight into it." "Show 'im what ye're made of." The hazy voices filtered in through Luke's outer layer of perception as he concentrated on his strategy. That Odus Pruden was physically more powerful than Luke could not be denied. Especially a Luke that was determinedly not using his immeasurable Force strength.

Luke felt the treacherous intent a split second before Pruden struck ― the larger man's balled right fist swinging under the table toward Luke's adjacent knee. The Jedi's reflexes easily allowed him to move his leg in time, and the man howled as his fist hit the edge of Luke's chair.

Though Pruden's plan to distract the blond newcomer backfired miserably, Luke declined to take advantage of his opponent's momentary pain. Instead, the Jedi patiently maintained their arms' upright position, then hung on tenaciously as Pruden's renewed wrath threatened to overpower him.

The intense struggle was wearing on the younger man, however, and Luke finally decided enough was enough. Summoning the largest burst of strength he could muster, he gritted his teeth and forced Pruden's hand down to the damaged tabletop.

A scattering of cheers rose from the crowd, but they soon evaporated as more and more of the villagers saw the irate look on Pruden's face.

"What's his problem?" Mara muttered to Aerie and Jaco. "He lost; he should get over it."

"Odus Pruden's never been beat," Jaco whispered back. "And he don't take kindly to anyone spurnin' his advances, neither" he added, giving Mara a knowing look.

"And... Luke and I have managed to offend him on both counts." She nodded matter-of-factly.

Odus was livid. He boldly reached out and grabbed the front of Luke's shirt, jerking the younger man to his feet. The Jedi neither absorbed nor repelled Pruden's anger; rather, he dissolved it as it endeavored to envelop him.

Luke's calm demeanor served only to further infuriate the wilderness man.

"Ye cheated!" Pruden screamed. "Ye musta cheated! A scrawny whelp like yerself couldna' beat me." He yanked Luke closer, his fetid breath invading the younger man's senses.

But Luke, his arms dangling at his sides, merely stared the man down. Murmurs began rising from the bystanders, testifying to the atmosphere of disbelief that Luke could remain so passive.

"I've no quarrel with you," Luke stated quietly, "if you'll just leave us alone."

"What's the matter, boy, scared to fight with yer fists?" Odus taunted.

"He's not afraid of you or anyone else."

Odus glanced over his shoulder at the source of the low, feminine voice. Mara's entire posture radiated a confident readiness.

Eli Pruden moved to stand at one side of his brother, while their whiskered cousin Tors flanked the other. Efam, Hiley, and several others shifted closer to Luke in the tense standoff; the pub owner gripped a short, thick club in one stout fist.

Odus eyed the obvious backing that the newcomers commanded, and released his hold of Luke's tunic, giving him a shove in the process.

"Ahh, ye're not worth the effort." As he retreated away from the table, however, Odus Pruden made a rash and foolish error in judgment.

"Now, yer woman, on the other hand..." the backwoodsman began, as he grabbed Mara and kissed her. Or rather, attempted to kiss her.

Mara's lightening fast reflexes hadn't dulled in the least since her tenure as the Emperor's Hand. She caught Odus in the hollow of his throat with a durasteel jab, then pivoted on one foot to kick his approaching brother in the ribcage. Patrons in two different directions scurried to get out of the way as the Pruden brothers were propelled their way.

Luke joined Jaco in grasping the upper arms of Tors Pruden, preventing him from entering the fray, but the Jedi made no other attempt to come to Mara's aid.

"Ain't ye gonna defend her?" Jaco whispered, his incredulous expression matching that of most of the other bystanders.

"She doesn't need my help," Luke returned quietly, his eyes never leaving his fiancée.

After gauging that her latter victim wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, Mara whirled around, feet apart in combat stance, and stared down into the fuming visage of Odus Pruden.

With one hairy hand still clutched around his throbbing throat, Odus lay sprawled against an overturned table. He gagged reflexively, laboring to catch his breath, and soon succumbed to a fit of coughing. The nervous crowd gave him a wide berth as he struggled to his feet, his fierce glower locked on Mara's resolute features.

Stalking slowly forward, the woodsman paused, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he glared sideways at Luke. "Ye let... yer woman... do yer fightin'?" he sneered hoarsely.

Mara took a step forward before Luke could reply. "Luke and I are a team," she grated out. "You're not dealing with the patient half of that team anymore."

Efam stepped between the aggressors before retaliation could be exacted by either side. "I want all ye Prudens out o' here, now," he ordered, rapping the cudgel in his open palm. "There'll be no more fightin' here tonight."

Tors shrugged out of Luke and Jaco's hold and helped up his cousin Eli, who was gingerly rubbing his painfully bruised ribs. Odus's lip curled in distaste as he passed Luke and Mara.

"Ye're possessed, the both of ye," he snarled, giving the couple one last vicious glare before following his brother and cousin out into the night.

Luke compressed his lips at the suspicious glances various customers were giving him and Mara. It seemed several of the others shared Odus Pruden's assessment of them, including their newfound friends.

"Mara," Aerie breathed in amazement as she sidled her way back from the distant corner of the room that Jaco had sent her to. "I've never seen anythin' like that. How did ye ever—?"

"It was nothing, Aerie," the redhead cut her off. "I just... I used to have to defend myself against my... uh,... brothers, and cousins, growing up."

"Like that?" The blonde gave her a dubious frown. "And I thought ye told me ye didn't have any brothers or sisters."

_Stang,_ Mara thought. _This whole mess keeps getting more and more_ _complicated._ "They... uh... have all moved away. I meant... I don't have any brothers still living at home."

Aerie nodded, but didn't ask any more questions.

Luke was fending off similar scrutinies of his reticence to explain both Mara's prowess and his own lack of action. Taking Mara's hand, he sent a silent (I think we need to leave.)

(I think you're right,) she returned. Even the former assassin was finding herself disquieted by the chill in the air. Bidding their friends a quick goodnight, the pair retrieved their coats and slipped out as quickly and as unobtrusively as they could.

―――――

Luke curled one arm around Mara's shoulders, and she slipped a hand inside his warm coat pocket, as the pair made their way down the nearly deserted street, snow crunching beneath their boots. Late-night revelers could be heard in the distance, but no one approached to disturb their solitude. Both cast careful glances and Force tendrils into the shadows of each building they passed, watching for any sign of revenge-seeking Prudens.

"Think they gave up and actually left town?" Mara wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't count on it," Luke replied. "Though I don't sense them nearby. Not that I'm worried," he continued, giving Mara a playful squeeze, "since I have my bodyguard right here."

"I'm sorry about that, Luke. I reacted in exactly the same manner that I chastised you about at the Ranat Roost."

"No, you didn't," Luke disagreed quietly. "There wasn't a hint of the dark side in you."

"You either, tonight," Mara acknowledged. "Not a whisper. You stayed so calm, while I lashed out without thinking. I didn't even give you the chance to settle things peaceably."

"Hmmm..." Luke sighed. "I don't think breaking off the edge of a tabletop represents serene composure or good common sense."

"That aside, you still have everyone thinking you're a coward for not jumping to my defense."

"I'm not here to impress anyone."

The couple paused as a wagon creaked by in front of them, pulled by a pair of shaggy quadruped farm animals they remembered were called drobbins. The bundled-up family swaying on the wagon's seats gave Luke and Mara a silent wave in greeting as they rolled on, the drobbins' hooves clomping across the snow-covered cobblestones.

"I know you're not, Luke." Mara picked the conversation back up. "It's just... I don't know..." She sighed heavily, her breath crystallizing in the frigid night air. "It bothered me, those looks people were giving you. You're the bravest man I know, and..."

Luke interrupted her with a hearty laugh. "First you don't want me to fight for your honor, now you do. Am I supposed to be able to figure this out?"

Mara joined him in chuckling. "Pruden was wrong about you," she said with a snicker, pulling him to a halt and wrapping her hands behind his neck. "You are worth the effort."

"I tell you, that line sure brought back memories." Luke grinned in the moonlight, tugging her along to resume their trek. "There must be something about me and bar brawls."

"I'm sure you have some retrospective tale that you're about to recount in vivid detail," Mara replied, smirking.

"If you don't want to hear it, just say so." He snorted in mock indignation.

"I wouldn't think of stifling your confessions of your deep, dark past," she joked. Not that she was ready to admit it aloud, but Mara enjoyed Luke's stories of his youth and his adventures in the Rebel Alliance. "Start talking, Skywalker."

"If you insist." He smiled, thinking back to his first experience in a seedy cantina. "It was in Mos Eisley, where I first met Han and Chewie..." Luke paused, memories of that fateful day flooding through him. Mara felt his heart tighten with a mixture of homesickness, dejection, and awestruck wonderment. "Ben and I... Ben Kenobi, that is..."

Mara gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. "I know. Go on."

He nodded in appreciation of her understanding. "We went to Chalmun's Cantina, looking for a pilot to take us to Alderaan. I'd been to Mos Eisley once before, with Uncle Owen, but never to a real cantina. It was nothing like the tapcafs in Anchorhead. So I boldly went up to the bar and ordered a drink, while Ben was questioning spacers for an available pilot. And these two... uh, gentlemen,... a human and an Aqualish, began picking on me. I mean, just because I looked like a greenhorn farmboy..."

"Just because you _were_ a greenhorn farmboy," Mara interjected with a smirk, wondering how much Luke was embellishing this tale to impress her.

"Yeah, I guess. So Ben came up and tried to get them to lay off me. 'This little one's not worth the effort' he told them." He turned to Mara with a sheepish grin. "If one more person describes me that way, I may get a complex."

"Oh, sure," she rejoined, laughing. "Go on with your story. What happened then?"

Luke smiled to himself at her poorly concealed eagerness to hear the rest of his tale. "One of them pushed me down into some tables, and then started to draw his blaster. And then, what occurred next I consider one of the defining moments on my path to Jedi Knighthood."

He paused dramatically, relishing Mara's look of expectation.

"Faster than I could blink, Ben whipped out his lightsaber, and the Aqualish's arm was laying on the floor, his lifeless hand still gripping his blaster. And I just sat next to an overturned chair, with my mouth gaping open, fingering my father's lightsaber hanging from my own belt. Up until then, I'd only heard wild gossip about what Jedi could do, and Ben hadn't given me any specifics yet. At that moment, though, it suddenly dawned on me what I'd be trained to do, what I was expected to be capable of doing. I was giddy with anticipation, and scared to death."

"I think you've proven yourself more than capable," Mara imparted a sincere compliment, a not-so-rare occurrence for her anymore. "I'd imagine, though, that brandishing a lightsaber on an Imperial-controlled world wouldn't be the smartest thing to do."

Luke shook his head. "Actually, no one else in the room seemed to notice, or even care. Maybe they were all too intoxicated, or high on spice, or just determined to mind their own business. Ben and I followed Chewie over to meet Han, then we slipped out when some stormtroopers showed up. Later, on the _Falcon_, Ben did take great pains to stress that using a saber should always be a last resort. Then, after Ben... died..., I wasn't sure I'd ever become skilled enough to depend on only my lightsaber, much less master it. I still think I have a lot to learn. And..." Luke paused as he pushed open the front door to the inn. "And... I'm probably boring the life out of you."

"No, Luke, not at all." Mara reached for one of the candlesticks that Merta kept in the entryway. "I find your stories fascinating."

Luke lit the candle, its flame casting flickering shadows as they started up the dark stairway. "You grew up amidst the glamour and excitement of Imperial Court. How can my monotonous little yarns be in any way interesting to you?"

"You had the opportunity to discover new things, to make your own decisions, right or wrong, all by yourself."

"Not when my uncle was around," Luke scoffed.

"Even then, you could have left. You stayed there because of your sense of responsibility, not because he forced you. He wouldn't have hunted you down if you'd left." Mara raised one hand and stroked Luke's face as they reaching the landing in front of their room. "You had free will, Luke. I find myself envious of the journey of discovery your life has been."

Luke curled a hand behind Mara's head, threading his fingers through her silky hair. "Mara, on the night I proposed, I told you our physical joining would be just such a journey. I'm amending that. Our entire life together will be a journey of discovering untrodden paths, meeting new challenges, taking risks, and exploring possibilities."

"And we'll overcome any obstacles that stand in our way," Mara continued his avowal, "because we'll meet them head on, together."

"Together," Luke whispered, bending to kiss her gently. "And not just obstacles," he pointed out. "I plan on experiencing countless days of new joys and... pleasures... together with you." He gave her a roguish grin and a sly wink as he backed her into their cozy room.

"Whatever happened to the shy, innocent Jedi I agreed to marry?"

"He's battling with the crazy-in-love, burning-for-you pilot." Luke pulled her into a ravenous kiss, clutching her so tightly she could barely breathe. (He's battling hard.)

"So you're a great warrior," Mara panted between frantic breaths, "in everything you do."

"I..." Luke gulped, shaking his head and exhaling raggedly as he loosened his grip. "Don't... don't ever call me a great warrior."

Mara frowned in confusion at his odd reaction to her words, studying his taut face as he leaned back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. What old memory had she stirred up this time?

She ran one hand lightly down his rising and falling chest as they both struggled to calm the raging inferno of desire in their hearts down to a smoldering glow.

"I think I'll get ready for bed," Mara murmured, forcing herself to back away. She gave Luke a wistful smile as he pried open one eye. "The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will be here."

"That twisted Jedi logic is rubbing off on you," he muttered, holding out his hand as her fingertips slipped out of his grasp.

Mara gathered up her sleeping gown and gave Luke one last lingering look as she headed for the refresher. He was still rooted to the same spot, eyes closed once more, and she swore his lips were silently mouthing the words "one more night..., one more night..." Or perhaps it was those same words reverberating in her own head.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mara drifted awake restlessly. When she had climbed into bed hours earlier, Luke assured her that he would soon join her; he just wanted to meditate awhile first. Even before she stuck one arm out, though, she could sense the empty spot beside her. With both the moonlight streaming into the room and the soft glow of the hearth's dying embers, she had no trouble picking out his silhouette. He was kneeling at the window, arms crossed on the wide sill, forehead pressed against the cold pane of glass.

"Luke?" Mara raised herself up on one elbow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Luke..."

After a moment's hesitation, a slightly longer mumbled reply came back to her.

"Thinking. Trying to cool off."

Mara could feel Luke tense as she slipped out of bed and crossed the small space between them. She knelt next to the window, leaning against the cool outer wall. Her appreciative eyes roved up and down his strong physique, covered only by the thin sleep pants. Without thinking, she reached out and touched his shoulder, jerking back as her fingertips brushed his burning skin.

(Please, Mara.) Luke's tone begged as he dropped his head down on his arms. (You're not making this any easier.)

"Sorry," she murmured, struggling to quench the flirtatious impulses that were racing through her, especially as she knew he could sense them all too well. They'd been through these trials too many times already, especially the previous afternoon; he didn't need any more tempting lures from her to have to resist.

"Go on back to bed, Mara. I'll join you shortly."

"Why do I not believe you?" She peered closer at his weary face. "Have you gotten any sleep at all tonight?"

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Such as?" Mara was not letting him off that easy.

Luke blew out a sigh of frustration. "Just things, Mara." Her restrained silence was enough to coerce him into continuing. "Repairing the ship, getting off this planet, the mission we're supposed to be carrying out..."

"I noticed you didn't include tomorrow in your litany of worries."

"I'm not worried about tomorrow." He finally let a wry little grin escape in her direction.

"Feeling pretty confidant of your love-making expertise, are you?" she teased, glad to see him shaking off his doldrums.

Luke flashed her an unexpected smile. "I'll have you know you're marrying a graduate of the 'Biggs Darklighter Training Course on How to Satisfy a Female.' Of course, you'll be my first endeavor at putting anything past chapter one into practice."

Mara couldn't help herself; she burst into laughter. "Thank the Force. I was afraid you were going say that Solo and Calrissian taught you everything you know."

"Han's tried, believe me. And I generally tune out any advice from Lando." Luke smiled wistfully at his bride-to-be. "No, I'm not concerned about tomorrow ― the ceremony or the wedding night. We'll muddle our way through."

"But something is troubling you," Mara insisted. "Do you think the improvised stabilizer rod won't fit?"

"I'll make it fit," he returned, daring her to comment on his repair skills.

"So...?" She was sure he was keeping something from her.

"I just... I think we need to get to Lorrd as soon as possible. I have a feeling there's more to the situation than negotiating a simple trade agreement."

"Proddings from the Force?"

"Maybe," he murmured, turning once more to stare out into the snowy night.

Mara stood and tugged on his arm, resolutely ignoring the warmth that even that much contact spread through her. "You are going to crawl right into that bed and get some sleep." She interrupted his coming objection. "The next few days are going to require you to be well rested."

"But, Mara..."

She crossed her arms defiantly as she watched him slowly comply. A resigned expression filled his face as he lay down on his stomach, tucking his arms beneath the soft feather pillow. Mara perched on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers up to his waist.

"Now put yourself in a sleeping trance," she directed, reaching one hand out and rubbing his shoulders lightly. His sinewy muscles felt like coiled durasteel cables. "If you remember, I once offered to massage the tenseness out of you."

As she began kneading the tightness in his back, Luke turned his head to the side and opened one eye. "This is supposed to make me fall asleep?"

"You, Jedi, are supposed to be going into a trance. You're the one that said we were going to wallow in misery tonight," she reminded him.

"I don't feel miserable," he muttered, closing his eyes once more. "Do I get to reciprocate some day?"

Mara smiled to herself, remembering the feeling as he cleaned her feet just after they exited the palace sewers. "Only if you start with my feet."

"And work my way up?" He glanced back at her.

She pushed his head back down onto the pillow. "Trance," she ordered, her fingers resuming their path down to his waist.

Luke let himself be engulfed by the comforting presence of both his fiancée and the Force. (I love you,) he sent, before slipping into a deep slumber.

Mara leaned forward and kissed his shoulder gently. (And I love you.)

―――――

Mara padded silently down the narrow stairway, her steps and her heart as light as the snowflakes falling outside. Up until nearly three months ago, the idea of her ever getting married had never entered her mind. To be more precise, she had very few ideas that had not originated from her master.

But the Emperor had made a critical error, an error that ultimately had costlier consequences to his Empire than overlooking an unprotected exhaust port on a battle station of death. He had underestimated the human spirit, and the power of love ― the spirit ignited by a spark between a Jedi and a servant, and the love between that Jedi and his father.

Luke may never fully realize the influence he exerts, Mara reflected, just by being himself. His warm-hearted, self-effacing, chivalrous self.

―――

Mara entered the darkened kitchen and lit a single candle. She had spent sufficient time in this room the previous day to easily find her way around in the semi-darkness. Soon a kettle of water sat heating over a small fire in the soot-blackened wood stove. There was an overwhelming sense of peace in the cozy room, a peace that was momentarily pierced by the shrill whistle of the kettle. Mara let the tea leaves steep a few minutes, then gratefully sipped the soothing local blend.

"I thought I heard me kettle singin'." Merta shuffled sleepily through the doorway, a well-worn knitted wrap pulled about her shoulders, covering an equally worn nightgown. Her gray hair hung loose down her back, its pattern of ripples indicative of the plaited bun in which it was usually wound.

"Merta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb anyone," Mara apologized. "I helped myself to some tea; I hope you don't mind."

"Not if ye pour me a cup, too." The elder woman pulled out a second straight-backed chair at the small table tucked in a corner. "Ye havin' trouble sleepin'?" She smiled in perceived understanding at the young barefoot woman.

"Not me."

Mara's flippant response, however, caused Merta's brow to crinkle in surprise. "Luke? Pre-weddin' jitters, has he?"

Mara shrugged. She could hardly reveal the real reasons for Luke's insomnia.

"Lass, every man has 'em. Menfolk want to appear strong and sure of themselves, but truth be told, they worry more than we do. They fret about supportin' a wife and children, puttin' food on the table, and clothes on their backs. Land's sake, they even worry if they'll satisfy their new bride on their weddin' night."

Mara laughed lightly. "Oh, Luke's not worried about that."

"Is that so? I was under the impression ye two had yet to test those waters."

"Excuse me?" _These people sure don't have any hang-ups of what they'll talk about,_ Mara thought. _Must be what happens when a society is never exposed to the social taboos of the rest of the galaxy._

"Ye haven't had relations with each other yet," Merta elaborated. "Which I was a might surprised to hear, with ye sleepin' together and all."

"Where..." Mara narrowed her eyes, more in curiosity than in any resentment of Merta's apparent knowledge. "Where did you hear that?"

"Why, 'cording to Filia, Luke told the menfolk last night."

"What!"

"Are ye sayin' it ain't so?"

"I... I..." Mara's attention abruptly fixated on her cup of tea, and she felt a sudden need to temper the bitterness that the dark liquid left on her palate.

Merta chuckled warmly. "I'd say it is so, judgin' by how many spoons of honey ye be addin' to that tea."

Mara froze, her spoon hanging in suspension above the nearly overflowing cup. "I didn't think Luke would discuss our personal business," she said in a small voice, more to herself than to her late-night companion. A distant memory jolted through her, of Luke vocalizing a similar grievance over Mara's distorted exaggerations to Leia aboard the _Falcon_.

"Ahh, don't be hard on him, lass. The way Efam described it to Filia, the men more or less guessed by Luke's reluctance to talk about how much pleasurin' ye two been engagin' in."

Mara looked up quickly in relief, then silently returned her gaze to her cup. She brought the brew to her lips, making a face at its syrupy sweetness. No, Luke would not reveal what went on, or didn't go on, between them. At least, she didn't think he would, even after consuming who knows how many mugs of ale. She wondered briefly if this had anything to do with the men's 'advice' to Luke, about which she had uncharacteristically forgotten to interrogate him.

"Mara, child, I may be just an old woman who takes to meddlin' too much, but, well..."

Mara glanced up again, waiting for Merta to continue.

"Yer own mum has told ye what to expect on yer weddin' night, hasn't she? I'm figurin' yer and Luke's decision to bond came as kind of a spur of the moment thing." She studied the betrothed girl's obviously forced expression of neutrality, then plunged ahead. "Or have ye already been with another man?"

Merta's last question widened Mara's eyes abruptly. An indignant retort died on the younger woman's lips as realization dawned that the motherly figure before her was only asking out of concern.

"No," came Mara's quiet reply.

Merta frowned a bit. "No, yer mum hasn't already discussed this with ye, or no, ye haven't had a roll with a man yet?"

"No to both of those." Mara felt a hint of embarrassment at the curt replies she'd been issuing. "I don't remember my mother. She died, I think, when I was very young."

"I'm sorry to hear that, lass," Merta said, and Mara could discern the woman's heartfelt sympathy. "Would ye like to talk with me, then?" the innkeeper continued, after only a moment's hesitation. "It's been a good sum of years since me own daughter was anticipatin' her new husband, but I figure ye may be harborin' a few of the same anxieties that she had."

Mara paused in her nervous fingering of her teacup. She certainly didn't consider herself naïve or uninformed. On more than one occasion as an adolescent she'd eavesdropped on the court dancers and concubines discussing their latest liaisons. And, of course, her extensive education had included a prosaic, scholarly discourse of reproduction. But Merta was offering a conversation that Mara was sure would be neither boring nor exaggerated ― the kind of explanations that a mother would offer a daughter.

"Yes," Mara answered quietly. "I think I would like to talk."

―――

When Mara slipped back into bed more than an hour later, she was careful not to wake up her sleeping husband-to-be. Luke had reiterated over and over that people would be kind and gracious to her if she would only give them a chance. Tonight she had had that lesson exemplified in a warm and loving manner by a woman she would have been proud to call Mother. How different her life could have been under the guidance of such a caring person. Dare she hope to be half that effective in counseling any children she may have?

Luke twitched in his sleep, and Mara smiled to herself in the darkness. Their children would have the best father imaginable, and a mother who learned how to love from that very same man. They would grow up in an environment as far removed from the cold, sterile life she had experienced as she could possibly make it, she vowed silently. She would give up her own life before allowing any child of theirs to know evil and darkness. And so would Luke.


	11. Chapter 11

**Once again, thanks to Calli1, Elessar-Lover, Mara look-a-like, and Celtic Cross for your reviews; welcome and thanks to marronett, and a special thanks to Mark C. for your detailed reviews of every chapter. **

**And now the big day you've all been waiting for ― almost. It's an evening wedding, after all. So first you have to be as patient as Luke and Mara, and endure all the happenings of the early part of the day. **

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Morning," was the whispered greeting.

"Morning," came the soft reply.

The betrothed couple lay on their sides a meter apart, facing each other. Both reached out with one hand, clasping fingers in the lonely space between them.

"Today finally arrived," Mara pointed out.

"I noticed." Luke smiled at her laconic observation.

She traced the lines of his face with her gaze – the cleft chin, the upturned lips, the faint scars, the heavily lidded blue eyes still gritty with sleep. "We'll have to make a note of what date this is on Coruscant's calendar."

"I already have." He tugged her small hand close enough to bestow a soft kiss on her fingertips, marveling at how hands he knew to be strong and lethal could also be so soft and delicate. Just like the rest of her, he thought, as he took measure of her full lips, her pert nose, her sparkling emerald eyes that contrasted nicely with her tangled red-gold curls.

"Guess we should be getting up," Mara murmured, though she made no move to act on her words.

"Unless there's some alternative bonding ritual that would allow us to stay right here." Luke inched closer to his lover-to-be, endeavoring to cajole her into a similar movement. "Something legally binding, but without the necessity of an officiator and witnesses?"

"There is," Mara returned sleepily. "Standard-law marriage. We have to lay here five years before it takes effect."

"I could do that," Luke joked, moving even closer. She had to be the most gorgeous, enticing woman alive, even first thing in the morning. "This inn has room service, doesn't it?"

"And could you stick to your 'no sex before marriage' rule for five years?" she teased, steadfastly ignoring his blatant coaxing to scoot nearer. Luke had been sound asleep when Mara had slipped back into bed in the middle of the night after her late-night talk with Merta. She had resisted the urge to curl up against him then, knowing such intimacy would hardly be conducive to keeping their vow of abstinence. To give in to temptation now would surely test their fortitude even more.

Luke apparently came to the same conclusion, as he halted his forward motion and pulled his arm back reluctantly. "Point taken. Are you planning on taking a bath this morning?" he continued after a moment's hesitation.

Mara gave him a quirky smile. "Why, did you want to join me?"

"Ask me again tomorrow," Luke said with a wink. "No, I thought I'd begin heating some water while you slept a little longer." He shivered slightly as he left the warmth of their bed. "You may not get much sleep tonight, you know."

"Promises, promises."

―――――

Mara watched as Luke finished hanging full buckets of water over the newly stoked fire; she couldn't go back to sleep. Today was her wedding day – an occurrence she had never expected to happen. She wasn't about to waste another moment of this day in slumber.

Slipping out from beneath the covers, Mara quietly crossed the bedchamber and leaned against the frame of the open doorway to the refresher.

"Am I that interesting?" Luke queried as he rinsed the lather off his straight razor, then scraped the sharp blade along the underside of his chin.

"Just thinking how we've been on this trip for eight days and this is the first time I've seen you shave." She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"How do you know I didn't shave when I was alone at the B-wing?"

"Did you?"

"No," he admitted, laughing. "I usually shave twice a lunar cycle, whether I need it or not. But I thought since this was a special occasion ..." He gave her a playful little smirk before squinting once more at his image in the murky reflecting glass.

"And here I thought you had used beard growth retardant, like some of the pilots do."

Luke's expression transformed into a sheepish grin. "Well, actually, it's just now wearing off." He rinsed the residual lather off his face before patting it dry. "Didn't want to look too scruffy-looking when we climbed out of the cockpit on Lorrd. If you wanted me to grow a beard, you should have spoken up sooner."

"Like when? A year ago?" She came alongside him, wrapping her arms around his waist and rubbing her cheek against his. "I feel like I'm robbing the cradle."

"Watch it now; I'm as old as you are," Luke reminded her. "And wasn't it my boyish good looks that attracted you to me in the first place?" He flashed her an infectious smile that left no doubt in Mara's mind as to the allurement he could generate. But she wasn't about to rise to his baiting.

"As I recall," she rejoined smoothly, "it was nearly pitch black in that detention cell. I couldn't even see you."

Luke stepped back and stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment that she would let herself be tripped up by her own words. "In the detention cell? Are you saying you secretly desired me already back then?" He curled a lock of her flame-colored hair around one finger. "Perhaps even ... lusted after me?"

She swatted his hand away in not-quite feigned annoyance. "Don't flatter yourself, farmboy," she growled. Nothing galled her more than to be caught letting her guard down, even with him. "You were nothing more than an assignment – barely worthy of my notice."

"Uh-huh," Luke scoffed, clearly not believing a word she said. "And you were just another fellow prisoner to me – no different than if I'd been sharing a cell with, say, Chewie."

"Oh, right." Mara rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her hips. "You could hardly take your eyes off me when the lights came on."

Luke gazed into her mesmerizing emerald orbs. "I'll admit you have certain ... interesting ... qualities."

"Enough with the flattery, farmboy. What's on your agenda this morning?"

Luke let out a small sigh as he hung his towel on a nearby peg. "Some project the men have for the Festival; I'm not sure what. Hiley says it's an adventure they know I'll like. How about you?"

"I know the women are decorating the Fellowship Hall." Mara frowned to herself in thought. "I'm supposed to have some part, but no one told me what it is."

"Hmmm. They like to keep us in the dark."

"We could always take a quick peek into their thoughts."

"Mara ..." he chastised. "Besides, don't you like surprises?"

"No. They make me nervous."

Luke laughed, then gave her an encouraging smile. "I do know we're to eat lunch with the vicar."

"And get interrogated by him, no doubt." Another frown crossed Mara's lovely features. "You don't think he'd refuse to marry us, do you?"

"What objections could he possibly have?"

"After what happened at the pub last night? Plenty."

Luke wrapped one arm around Mara's slim shoulders. "Don't worry. You'll dazzle him."

"A clergyman? I'm not sure I've even met one before. What if he'll only marry couples who belong to the same religion these people practice?"

"Mara ..." Luke shook his head in frustration. "The villagers know that we have different practices. They said it would be all right."

"You are way too optimistic for your own good, Skywalker."

"Just trying to balance out your pessimism, my love." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before turning to leave. "Meet you back here just before noon?"

"Sure, unless I meet some other handsome man to run away with instead."

"I think Odus Pruden is available." Luke just managed to close the refresher door behind him before a flying hairbrush slammed into it. _Oh, what a lively marriage we're going to have, _he reflected, smiling as he headed downstairs for breakfast. _Sorry, Master Yoda – I'm afraid adventure and excitement are going to be unavoidable._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Eyes closed against the glare of the noonday sun, Mara sat on the rickety wooden bench near the back door of the inn, her head resting against the side of the building. She literally had to force herself to relax; she didn't want him to find her this keyed up on the happiest day of their lives. She knew better, of course. You can't fool a Jedi ...

Moments later, Luke squeezed Mara's hand as he parked himself in the empty spot next to her.

"How did your morning go?" he asked, as diplomatically as he could. "At times I could feel ... frustration ... from you."

"Frustration pretty much sums it up," she muttered. "We may have to rethink this whole 'having children' business."

Luke sat up a little straighter and studied her tired face with concern. "Why? What happened?"

She forced her eyes open and gave him a weak smile. "I had the privilege of watching a group of little darlings while their mothers decorated the banquet hall."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Luke frowned in confusion. "The children I've encountered seemed pretty nice."

"Humph." Mara rubbed her temples wearily. "Most of them behaved well enough, I suppose, but there were a couple ... Did I mention Thal to you – the boy that was molding some beast out of snow the other evening?"

Luke shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Well, anyway, he was there, along with a buddy, and they were both being totally obnoxious. All they wanted to do was bully the other children around."

Luke raised one eyebrow humorously. "And you couldn't handle them?"

"They were doing their utmost to try my patience, which I have very little of, as you well know," she grumbled in exasperation. "I finally had to segregate them, with the threat of bodily harm."

"I'm sure they know now who's boss." He did his best to hide a chuckle as an image of Mara holding two kicking boys by the nape of their necks sprang into his mind.

"As long as _you_ remember who's boss." She eyed him coolly. "Enough about my lack of parenting skills. What undertaking did you get to experience?"

Luke released a melancholy sigh. "You remember I told you that Hiley said they had a surprise for me – an outing they were sure I'd enjoy?"

Mara nodded. "And noble you didn't pry into their minds, 'cause you didn't want to ruin their surprise."

"You know it's not right to do that." Luke rubbed a palm over his eyes. "But maybe I should have pried."

"Don't keep me in suspense here, Jedi."

"They took me hunting."

Mara waited for him to expound on why that would be a bad thing. "And ...? How much game did you bag?"

"None."

"None? You?"

"I couldn't do it," he muttered sullenly.

"Couldn't do what?"

"Kill anything." He fingered the hem of his jacket pensively, not meeting her quizzical gaze. "I was all right until I actually had an animal in my sights, then I froze. I couldn't bring myself to kill a defenseless creature, even though I knew we were hunting for meat for the banquet."

Mara's expression turned incredulous. "The great womprat hunter couldn't shoot some little rishhare or timberdeer?" She made no attempt to suppress her titter of laughter. "So what did you do?"

"I pretended to always miss." He gave a self-conscious shrug. "I don't think the others believed I could be that poor of a shot, though, especially after hitting all those bulls-eyes in tackdarts."

"But why, Luke?" She stifled her chuckling as best she could, and clasped his hand in sympathy. "You've told me several stories of your hunting exploits. What was different about today?"

"Nothing. It's just ... I ... I guess I've changed." He stared up at the billowy winter clouds. "I haven't killed an animal since that borrat tried to attack us, and even before that ... It's been a long time ..." he trailed off, biting his lower lip. "I don't know, maybe it was living with the wildlife on Dagobah – made me appreciate the value of all life." He stole a glance sideways to gauge her reaction.

Mara squeezed his hand warmly. Her poor, sweet, kind-hearted Jedi. She thought back to their trek to the village, when she had suggested they track some game to eat but Luke insisted ration bars were good enough. "But I've seen you eat meat numerous times," she pointed out.

"It's not staring me back in the eye when it's lying on my plate." He gave a droll smile. "Don't worry, I'm not turning into a vegetarian."

"Yet," she finished with a snort.

"Don't give me that look. I could hunt food if I had to. But the other men were getting enough; it really wasn't necessary for me to hit anything."

"I believe you, farmboy." She patted his leg, then paused as another thought struck her. "What do they hunt with here? I haven't seen any weapons, other than that big club Efam keeps behind his counter."

"It's a type of crossbow, with sharpened arrows. They're pretty accurate, and deadly, judging by how much game the rest of the men snagged. It's a good thing there's no myth about the fate of the coming marriage resting on how much prey the groom snares," he added with a chuckle.

"That's lucky for us," she agreed. "Or that the behavior of our future children is predicted by how much of my hair I pull out caring for other people's urchins. These villagers don't have us figured out by a long shot, do they? I would have loved to try my hand at hunting, and you would have been content to stay here surrounded by children." She leaned back against the clapboard building, imagining in her mind's eye a wild beast in her blaster's sights.

"Actually, I think they're getting us sized up. There was a wisecrack made about my hiding behind your skirts." Luke blew out a relieved breath. "At least no one seemed upset about last night. I didn't hear the word 'possessed' even once."

"Hmmm. I was a bit surprised that they trusted me with their children."

"Maybe they were glad to finally find a guardian they thought could handle all of them."

They shared a moment of laughing at themselves, until Luke rose and tugged on Mara's arm. "We can't sit here all day discussing our shortcomings. We've got places to go and things to do. I intend to be a married man by nightfall."

"And a gratified man after nightfall?"

"I certainly hope so," he rejoined with a smirk.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Luke glanced up the street as he and Mara strolled along. "I guess that should be the vicar's house," he noted, spying a small cottage that matched the description Merta had given them.

Mara groaned wearily. "Can't we just say we're not hungry?"

"I don't think that refusing his invitation would lead to a smooth bonding ceremony."

"All right, but you're doing all the talking."

"Mara, quit worrying." He pulled her toward the front door. "I've met him already. Vicar Serole is a very gracious man."

"Gracious to you, maybe. You weren't the one last night that—" Mara stopped when she noticed Filia's sister, the seamstress, hurrying across the street and waving to get her attention. "Hello, Lessie."

The older woman pulled her shawl a little tighter against the cold winter air. "Goin' to yer lunch with the vicar, I see." She gave Mara a sly wink. "He calls it 'The Last Repast.' It's his little joke that this may be the last decent meal the poor groom will get fer quite awhile."

Mara's eyes widened marginally, then she turned to Luke. "See? He doesn't like brides."

"No, no," Lessie said, laughing. "He's just a soft-hearted tease. But I am glad I caught up with ye, Mara. Can ye be at me house in an hour? I need to make a couple more adjustments to yer dress with ye in it."

"Of course. Surely we'll be finished here in an hour," Mara said hopefully.

"Not if we stand out here in the street all day," Luke put in. He turned and knocked lightly as Mara and Lessie said their farewells.

The door opened to show a slightly stooped, white-haired gentleman.

"Come in, come in," Vicar Serole welcomed them. "Ah, Luke, this must be yer lovely bride-to-be." He clasped Mara's hands before she had a chance to react. "I'm pleased to finally be meetin' ye, m'dear. Luke has spoken most highly of ye." He ushered them into a small dining room, where a short, plump woman was busy setting steaming dishes on a round, cloth-covered table. The vicar introduced her as his wife, Orena.

Both Luke and Mara immediately noticed that there were only three places set at the table. "You're not joining us?" Mara had hoped the pleasant-looking Madam Serole would temper the cross-examination she and Luke would certainly receive.

"Alas, no." Orena Serole smiled. "I have to oversee the decoratin' in the church. Who knows where those women may be hangin' things." She turned to her husband. "Now don't ye be forgettin' to offer these young folks seconds," she admonished. "And the pie I baked is sittin' on the sideboard, and—"

The elderly man placed his hands on his wife's shoulders and guided her toward the front door. "Precious, I've been doin' this for nigh on thirty years. I don't think they'll be leavin' here hungry."

"Humph." Orena gave Mara a conspirative glance just before exiting. "Menfolk are always thinkin' they can do things as well as women," she whispered. "Mark my words, ye'll have to remind him 'bout the pie."

"I'll do that," Mara returned, just out of earshot of the vicar.

―――

Luke, Mara, and Vicar Serole were soon enjoying the delicious meal, but only Luke and the vicar engaged in the normal small talk that accompanied such a repast. Mara nibbled at her food in silence, eyes fixed steadfastly on her plate. She looked up only when Luke's hand clasped hers.

"Mara?"

"You seem nervous, child," the clergyman soothed. "Is the thought of bein' married that frightening?"

"No," Mara answered quickly. _No, it's wondering when you're going to start grilling me, _she thought. She had been bracing herself since they sat down, waiting for the inevitable lecture on her retaliation against the Pruden brothers.

"Mara's afraid you won't marry us because of what happened at the Red Bone last night," Luke put in, grinning.

"Luke!" Mara couldn't believe he had just blurted out that regrettable incident. She gave their host a look that implored his understanding. "Luke has learned to think before he acts. I haven't."

"Don't fret, Mara." Vicar Serole smiled gently. "While I was out and about this mornin', yer unfortunate encounter with the Prudens was the main topic of conversation. I was troubled to learn of their harassment of ye, and that it was necessary for ye to defend yerself. Ye did nothin' wrong, child." The upturned crinkles in his lined face affirmed his risible nature. "As long as ye and Luke never resort to fightin' against each other," he added with a chuckle.

"No, never," Mara assured him, and Luke nodded in agreement. He would never strike Mara, and he was pretty sure she would never strike him. Not seriously, anyway. He gave Mara an apprehensive sideways glance as Vicar Serole continued.

"Ahh, then all is well. Whatever former life caused ye to learn and practice such skills is in yer past. All that needs concern ye now is yer future." The old man leaned back in his chair and regarded the betrothed couple, who in turn regarded him with amazement at his insight.

"'Tis fortuitous fer Zembuhl, Luke and Mara, that ye have come forward with yer desire to bond, and it will be me honor to conduct the ceremony. But I'm sure it weighs on yer minds that yer kith and kin aren't here to share this day with ye." He paused as Mara reached over to squeeze Luke's hand. "So I want to stress that if ye're not ready, for any reason, don't feel pressured to carry through with the bondin' this day. Our village has survived before; it would agin."

"We're ready," Luke declared, and Mara echoed his words. Luke smiled inwardly, thinking back to a similar proclamation he had made to Yoda regarding his readiness to become a Jedi. Both instances signaled two of the most important stages he would ever experience in his life. Despite Yoda's misgivings, he had been ready to begin Jedi training then. Luke glanced over at Mara, feeling her love and strength. And he was ready to be her husband now.

"Then I suppose 'tis time fer me to begin that sermon that Mara has been dreadin' so." He reached out and clasped Mara and Luke's free hands in each of his own. "My children, marriage is a sacred rite not to be taken lightly. It is a beautiful and intimate relationship that a husband and wife are privileged to share."

In silence, Luke and Mara listened intently to the clergyman's words as he continued.

"If ye love and cherish yer spouse, yer union will continue to grow and develop, enrichin' yer entire married life. The single most important thing ye can do to preserve yer love is to remain faithful to each other." There was a lull in his discourse as he allowed his words to sink in. "During yer marriage ye will discover joys and comforts unique to the two of ye. Yer intimate lovin' is the one experience in yer lives that ye should share only with each other, and no one else."

Luke and Mara squeezed their joined hands tightly.

(Do you think he knows we haven't made love yet?) Mara sent silently.

(I think most of the village knows,) he returned dryly, a glint of amusement in his eye.

As if reading their thoughts, the vicar went on. "Yer conjugal relations should also be a most private matter between ye – not the subject of idle village gossip." At their startled looks, he chuckled. "I've lived all me life in Zembuhl, and I know what busybodies folks here can be. Ye must never feel pressured to confirm or deny their speculations."

Vicar Serole smiled inwardly at the exchange of glances between his listeners. These two young people would do just fine. "Now, I must also add, if ye ever find yerselves at odds over any aspect of yer marriage – personal or public – don't hesitate to seek guidance. Ye can talk to yer spiritual advisor, a mentor, or a trusted friend. Never let yer troubles fester inside ye. Most important of all – talk to each other."

Taking a breath, the kindly minister began the last part of his preachment.

"The Divine One willin', the result of yer lovin' will be the creation of new life. Children are a blessin' that will bring ye unsurpassed happiness and contentment." The minister turned his attention to Luke. "Findin' the right woman to be the mother of his children is a goal every man strives fer."

"I know," Luke responded quietly, a grateful smile playing on his lips as he gazed at his fiancée.

Vicar Serole then confronted Mara. "In the same manner, every young woman wants a home and a family of her own. Ye are most fortunate, Mara, to find a husband ye love to provide those things fer ye."

The slight frown that crossed Mara's face didn't escape the older man's notice. "Ye are willin' to bear children fer Luke, are ye not?"

Mara looked at Luke's gentle, expectant expression. Despite her initial indignation at the wording of Vicar Serole's query, she did indeed share Luke's dream of one day having a family together.

"Yes, someday," she replied. "When we're ready."

"Someday?" the vicar echoed, his puzzlement evident in his voice. "It's been me experience that babes tend to come into bein' when _they're_ ready, not when their parents are."

Mara realized her error immediately. These people had no artificial methods of contraception. She thought of Aerie, expecting a baby only months after her wedding. As charming and attractive as this quaint community was, there were still countless advantages to modern civilization.

"Of course, that's what I meant," she backtracked. "We'll accept children whenever they arrive."

Vicar Serole nodded in understanding. "Good, good." He released their hands and leaned back. "Luke and Mara, I'm looking forward to bondin' the two of ye together. But if we don't shake a leg, we'll all be arrivin' late at the church."

"Haven't you forgotten something?" Mara gestured with her head toward a side table, and the pie that sat upon it.

"Land's sakes!" the elderly gentleman exclaimed. "Orena would have me head." The trio laughed, and helped themselves to the delectable dessert.

Finally, their host wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed back his chair, prompting Luke and Mara to follow suit.

"We thank you for your counsel, Vicar." Luke extended his hand in gratitude.

"Ahh, 'twas me pleasure. I'll be seeing ye both before ye even have a chance to be nervous." He gave Mara a knowing wink.

As Luke and Mara stepped out into the street, Luke bent down and gave Mara a gentle kiss. "Could be the last time I ever get to kiss a single woman." He grinned happily, then headed toward Jaco Modesa's home to change clothes.

Mara stood a moment, watching him amble away. She relived the same sentiments she had felt when she resolved to defy Emperor Palpatine and follow Luke to freedom – no regrets; not now, not ever.


	12. Chapter 12

**Many thanks to ****iloveronnie21**, **Mark C., random-idiot, crazytook, Elessar-Lover, Mara-look-a-like, and Calli1 for your kind reviews.**

**To Amy and ****Nerca Beyul: **First, let me say that Book One is my favorite of the series, also. I readily admit that Book Two tends to drag on too long, and the plot is rather contrived. I am under no illusions to the contrary. It was the best I could come up with at the time. Keep in mind that the three books were written about a year apart, and it's difficult (for me, anyway) to keep up the pace of a story in its sequel without being repetitive. They say that one should write according to their strengths; inventing original, complicated outside conflict is a struggle for me. That being said, let me also point out that _Journey_ was always intended to be light-hearted, romantic fun ― it's not _War and Peace_. I'm not a professional writer, and have no ambitions to be. Hopefully, Book Three will be more to your liking, and thank you for your honest opinions. Feel free to e-mail me if you want.

**And now, in honor of my own anniversary today, I invite those ready for some more sappy dialogue, to the bonding of Luke and Mara Skywalker…**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Twelve**

Luke Skywalker paced back and forth just outside the entrance to Zembuhl's quaint chapel, his bootsteps leaving a worn path across the trampled snow. _Where was she?_ He paused, extending both his vision and his Force sense in the direction of Lessie the seamstress's home.

"Don't worry, she'll be here." Jaco Modesa laid a reassuring hand on the Jedi's shoulder. "Womenfolk take themselves ferever to get all fixed up."

"Not Mara," Luke objected. "She can change clothes faster than I can lace up my boots."

"Aye, but does she ever have two or three other womenfolk helpin' her?" Jaco gave a small chuckle. "I think it took Aerie all day to get ready fer our bondin'."

Luke nodded, though his anxiety didn't lessen. Villagers were beginning to approach the church, both on foot and by wagons and sleds. Jaco had explained to Luke that it was the duty of the couple being bonded to personally greet all the guests before the ceremony began. In fact, no one was to enter the nave before exchanging salutations with Luke and Mara. Which made the groom all the more restless, as he imagined a hundred people or more waiting in the snow for the bride to arrive.

Finally relief replaced tension, as Mara's familiar aura drew close. Luke smiled broadly and moved to intercept the gaily-decorated sleigh that approached.

"Ye weren't gettin' nervous now, were ye, lad?" Efam called from the front-facing seat as he tugged on the reins of a pair of pale gray drobbins. Filia and Lessie shared the padded seat with Efam, but Luke's attention was fixed on the passenger in the rear of the open sleigh.

"Did you think I changed my mind?" Mara teased, as Luke gave a less-than-convincing shake of his head to Efam's question.

"No, of course not," Luke declared, reaching out to help Mara alight. "But I was wondering what ... was taking ... so long." Luke's voice trailed off as Mara stood, her cape falling open to reveal the tailored dress underneath. "You look beautiful," he breathed. His eyes followed the soft white material that clung to her curves, from the bodice's scooped neckline that was trimmed in fur to the heavy flared skirt that reached the tops of her short white boots. His gaze returned to her radiant face, where wisps of fiery hair peaked out from a fur-trimmed hood, the matching cape hanging loosely over her shoulders.

Mara smiled in unabashed joy at his slack-jawed expression. "You're looking pretty dapper yourself." She reached down and ran a gloved finger along the narrow strip of low-nap black fur that trimmed both his dark frock coat and the waistcoat he wore underneath. "How did they know that black is your fav—" Mara stopped short, staring hard over Luke's shoulder. He turned his head and followed her gaze, which fell on the scowling face of Odus Pruden. Luke also met the man's cold stare just before Pruden disappeared into the crowd. Still focusing his attention in the direction the woodsman had vanished, Luke automatically lowered his arm as Mara stepped down beside him.

"If that ogre thinks he's going to wreak havoc on our wedding, I'll ..., I'll ..." Mara growled, clenching Luke's hand tightly.

"You'll do nothing, 'cause he'll do nothing," Luke returned, his face relaxing into a reassuring smile. "I've been told by several people that the Prudens wouldn't dare disrupt any part of our bonding day. Apparently all the good fortune we're bringing will extend to them also."

"Well, we certainly wouldn't want any misfortune to befall them, would we?" she bit out derisively.

"Mara, I doubt they'll even come into the church." Luke gave his bride a quick grin. "I'd say we're safe till at least tomorrow." He gently tugged on her hand. "C'mon. No more talk about the Prudens. This is our day, and our guests are waiting."

They entered the small vestibule of the chapel and were soon engulfed by a stream of overjoyed well-wishers, all eager to receive a personal greeting from the honored couple.

At last the stream dwindled to a trickle, and Mara heaved a sigh of relief as the last guest passed. As Luke helped her remove her cloak, she caught sight of Vicar Serole standing in the archway, signaling that it was time for them to enter.

"My mouth feels as dry as pincotton from saying 'welcome' so many times," she murmured quietly to Luke. Her eyes widened as he responded by licking his lips and winking enticingly at her. "Behave! The vicar is—"

"I know." He reached out and took Mara's right arm, guiding her into the main section of the chapel. Luke adopted an air of calm and seriousness as he led her to a raised dais located a few steps inside the airy, high-ceilinged room. The parishioners were seated in a semi-circle facing them, their previously anxious faces now hosting warm and expectant smiles.

The melodic strains of a traditional paean being sung by a trio of villagers drifted to an end as Luke bowed solemnly to both the waiting minister and to the crowd. He then repeated the words he had methodically memorized that afternoon at Jaco's cottage.

"Vicar Serole, good people of Zembuhl. I respectfully request your favor and your blessings as I take this woman to be my bonded wife."

He held Mara's hand loosely, but kept his gaze on the congregation. Jaco had explained that had Mara any relatives in attendance, Luke would have first been required to ask their permission for the bonding.

The village's venerable cleric stepped forward, nodding briefly to Luke in acknowledgment. "On behalf of the citizens of Zembuhl, I am happy to honor yer request. Ye came to us as strangers, seeking shelter and assistance. Tomorrow ye will leave us as friends, havin' given more to us than we could ever hope to repay. Ye have allowed us to share in yer moment of happiness, embracin' us as ye would yer own kin."

Gesturing for the couple to face each other and clasp both their hands, the vicar addressed his first words to the groom.

"Luke, as ye hold the hands of yer betrothed, know that these are the hands that will always be full of her love fer ye. These are the hands that will applaud yer accomplishments and soothe yer disappointments. Ye must use yer own hands to provide a warm home and hearty victuals fer yer family. Yet do not be so mindful of the pursuit of these goals that ye ignore the needs of yer wife."

Luke clutched Mara's hands as tightly as he dared. How he wished he could feel her soft skin with his right hand – really feel it, not just assimilate the sensation through artificial tactile sensors. He looked up as Mara squeezed both his hands in a gentle reminder that she accepted all of him, just as he was.

Pausing in his discourse, Vicar Serole then turned to the waiting bride.

"Mara, as ye hold the hands of yer betrothed, know that these are the hands that will always be full of his love fer ye. These are the hands that will hold ye and comfort ye, that will wipe away yer tears of joy and tears of sorrow. Ye will use yer own hands to tend to the care of yer home and yer children, and to prepare the foods yer husband provides. Yet do not take such pains with these chores that ye ignore the needs of yer husband."

Mara was grateful for Luke's sure grip, which kept her own hands from trembling. As she absorbed the minister's words, she studied the hands of her soon-to-be husband. One flesh and blood – one wires, circuitry, and synthflesh. Both soft and gentle as they embraced her, caressed her, loved her. She had sensed Luke's melancholy reflections moments earlier, and was glad for the opportunity to reassure him of her understanding and acceptance.

Smiling broadly, the clergyman directed his next words to both the bride and the groom.

"Luke and Mara, the greatest gift ye can give each other is love. Without love, ye have nothin'. I invite ye now to pledge that love to one another."

Luke took a deep breath and gazed into his intended's sparkling emerald eyes. He could feel her nervousness and joy mingling with his own. "Mara, the love I feel for you is boundless and everlasting. I will cherish you and care for you all the days of my life. Will you receive me as your helpmate, your confidante, and your lover?"

"I will," Mara replied, softly and without hesitation. Luke's bright gaze reflected the overwhelming happiness that filled her entire being. She glanced quickly at the vicar, who nodded for her to continue. "Luke, you are my love and my life. I will cherish you and care for you all the days of my life. Will you receive me as your helpmate, your confidante, and your lover, as I have accepted you?"

"I will," Luke replied quickly, squeezing her hands gently.

Vicar Serole motioned for the couple to face him, with Mara's right hand still clutching Luke's left. He then gestured for them to extend their clasped hands, before turning to the silent congregation. "I now entreat yer friends here present to bestow their blessins' on this union."

Merta was the first to come forward with a felicitation, laying her weathered hand atop those of the happy couple. "May your love be as endless as the sky," she intoned, a tear of happiness rolling down her cheek, "and may yer descendants be as numerous as the trees in the forest."

Aerie and Jaco then approached in unison, enveloping Mara and Luke's hands with their own. "May ye always have joy to brighten any sorrow," Aerie recited, her eyes shining gaily. "May ye always have hope to brighten yer dreams," Jaco finished.

As the Modesas returned to their seats, Hiley and his wife stepped forward. "May yer journey home be safe and swift, and may yer nets be ever filled with an overflowin' catch," he said, speaking for both of them. Luke caught Mara's eye with a knowing twinkle at the toolcrafter's reference to Luke's supposed occupation.

The congenial owners of the town's pub were the next to come forth. "May yer larder be ever full and yer table never empty," Efam began. "May yer sons be strong and yer daughters fair," Filia continued, patting the couple's hands warmly.

Benedictions were offered by over half the congregation, reflecting virtually all the villagers that Luke and Mara had personally befriended during their brief stay. As everyone settled back into their seats, Luke addressed the crowd. "We thank you for your wishes, and in return, entreat the Divine One to bless this village with good fortune and a bountiful harvest."

Vicar Serole then laid his own wrinkled hand atop those of the couple. "Ye have made yer pledge of love and commitment to each other, and yer hearts are now bound in true devotion. As a wife belongs to her husband, so a husband belongs to his wife. Be it now and forever ordained that Luke and Mara Skywalker are husband and wife."

Luke felt Mara's hand tighten in his own. (Mara?) he inquired silently.

Instead of replying, she turned toward the congregation as Aerie's cheerful voice rang out above the jubilant applause. "Give yer new husband a kiss, Mara!"

Mara looked back at Luke, who raised an eyebrow expectantly. She matched his smirk with one of her own, then grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for a deep, prolonged kiss. They finally parted, only to realize that the entire gathering had fell silent.

"I think ye've been practicin' that," Jaco pronounced, causing plaudits of laughter and clapping to once more fill the cozy chapel.

The newlyweds were guided into the same sleigh in which Mara had arrived, despite Luke's objections that they could walk the short distance to the banquet hall.

"'Tis tradition, son," Hiley assured him. "Ye canno' be goin' agin'st tradition."

Luke acquiesced with a nod, and settled down next to his new wife. He was silent as Efam climbed onto the forward seat, flicking the reins to propel the drobbins into motion.

"You have something on your mind," Mara observed quietly, pulling her wrap closer around her.

It took a moment for Luke to answer, as he waved to a group of children running alongside the sleigh.

"I hadn't asked you about taking my name," he finally said. "Just because the vicar called you Mara Skywalker, that doesn't mean—"

Mara laid one hand on his leg to interrupt his words. "My name is the only thing that ever truly belonged to me," she murmured.

"Then you should keep it," he rationalized.

She shook her head in objection. "The name 'Jade' was part of my old life. 'Skywalker' represents my new life. I shall do my best to keep ... our name ... an honorable one."

Luke smiled warmly, and leaned over to give her a soft kiss. "Thank you," he whispered.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Luke was the first to enter Zembuhl's Fellowship Hall; Mara trailed behind, her hand firmly clasped in his. She pulled up short, however, yanking him to a halt.

"My stars, Luke, look at this!" Mara's eyes lit up at the wonderland of decorations. "Look what they've done ..." Her voice quivered with awe. "... for us."

"Yeah," Luke breathed, his eyes darting from the multi-colored ribbons that hung from the rafters to the candle-lit paper lanterns that filled every nook and cranny to the boughs of purple-berried greenery that garnished each table. It was a tableau of every trimming they had seen throughout the festival, multiplied a dozen times over.

Filia and Merta stepped forward to usher the newlyweds to a long table at the far end of the hall, where Aerie, Jaco, and Efam soon joined them. Guests streamed in behind them, and soon every table was filled with revelers. It seemed to Mara and Luke that more people were in attendance than had crowded into the modest-sized church. Apparently the bonding fete was a gala celebration that no one missed.

And then the banquet began ...

Course after course of mouth-watering food was served, and the bride and groom were expected to sample each one.

"I think I'm going to explode," Mara muttered to Luke under her breath as she picked the smallest portion of toasted carshmea she could find from a tray being passed down the line. "Don't even try to pretend you're not getting full, too."

Luke glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he placed a tidbit of the delicacy on his own plate. "Just be glad they're not forcing us to taste all the variations of alcohol they've managed to concoct."

"That's because I gave strict instructions that you weren't to be given any ale, rum, or this stuff that passes for whiskey." Mara flashed him a triumphant smirk.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Mara!" Luke rolled his eyes in despair. "Are you ever going to forget that?"

"No, and I'm never letting you forget either. Just wait till we get back to Coruscant and I pass out directives to Solo, Calrissian, and all of Rogue Squadron."

"You wouldn't dare," Luke growled.

"Of course I—" Mara stopped suddenly as Merta appeared out of nowhere, setting a slice of coarse sweet cake in front of her. "Oh, no, Merta, really ... I couldn't possibly put another forkful in my mouth."

The jovial landlady laughed heartily, and all those within earshot joined her. "Ye don't hafta," she informed Mara. "That be yer husband's job."

Luke looked up sharply as he caught the end of the conversation. Wonder flitted through his mind at how quickly he recognized himself as the 'husband' being referred to. "What? What's my job?"

"This be concordium, yer bondin' cake." Merta gave the new groom a sly grin. "Ye must feed it to yer bride with nary a crumb fallin'."

Mara's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And if he misses?"

Aerie gave an unladylike snort. "Let's just say ye'll be spendin' a lot of time sweepin' up spills in yer kitchen."

Luke picked up a forkful of the baked dessert. "C'mon, open wide and don't move. No doubt there'll be some equally foreboding misfortune for me if I don't hold my mouth still enough to suit you."

Mara relented, an amused smirk lighting up her face as she caught Luke's absurd mental image of her slaving away in a primitive kitchen. The sweet taste of the light and airy cake served to further improve her disposition, and she soon was taking her turn in feeding bites of concordium to Luke. And not a crumb fell.

―――――

No sooner had everyone finished eating when men began pulling tables and benches aside, opening up a spacious area in the middle of the hall.

Mara turned to Aerie in puzzlement. "What's going on?"

The bubbly blonde's eyes glittered with excitement. "Why, dancin', o' course!" She gave Mara a look of wonder. "Don't ye and Luke dance?"

Mara shot a quick glance at her new husband before replying. "I do. Luke ..." She paused in thought. "Well, he does his best. But I'm not sure we'll be familiar with your manner of dancing."

"Ah, ye'll pick it up right off, I'm sure." Aerie grinned as the strains of a serenade began filling the hall. "Though I guess ye'll just hafta go with yer own style on this first one. The bride and groom always lead the dancin'."

Mara's eyes widened as she felt dozens of expectant gazes turning her direction. She nudged Luke uneasily, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation flowing through her. "Showtime, farmboy."

"What do you mean?" He finally noticed the open pathway between their table and the empty dance floor. Several villagers began gesturing impatiently, encouraging the newly bonded couple to fulfill their duty. "Oh, no," Luke muttered under his breath.

"Come, shake a limb, ye two." Merta circled behind them, resting her hands on the backs of their chairs. "The rest of us canno' dance till the guests of honor take a spin."

"We're coming." Mara gripped Luke's hand, nearly dragging him through the now-clapping throng.

"But, Mara, we don't know how they dance here," he whispered in protest.

"Doesn't matter," she returned. "We'll just wow them with our own technique."

Luke pressed his lips in a tight line and relented. He was obviously outvoted, he realized, as hands reached out to slap him on the back as he passed through the crowd. He'd danced with Mara on several occasions since those first lessons in his palace suite and, he had to admit, enjoyed swirling in slow motion with her in his arms. But being the center of attention while trying to follow unfamiliar music was another matter all together.

Mara pulled him to a halt in the center of the open floor. "Just close your eyes and forget that anyone's watching. There's only you and me ..." She trailed off as Luke smiled and enveloped her in a warm embrace. They easily fell into a comfortable rhythm, swaying in synchronized harmony as one person to the soothing melody.

Mara rested her head against Luke's inviting shoulder, her nose just brushing the throbbing pulse in his neck.

"You are my life," he murmured softly, ignoring the tickle of her upswept curls against his face.

"The Force is your life, Luke," she whispered back, raising her head only a fraction.

He turned his head just enough to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You are the force that drives me, Mara Skywalker."

They continued to cling to each other when the music drifted to an end, oblivious to the observers that surrounded them until Luke felt a tap on his shoulder. Parting reluctantly, the newlyweds met the unabashed grins of their friends.

"That certainly be an interestin' way o' dancin' ye got there," Hiley said with a laugh. "I feared I'd hafta fetch me leverbar to pry ye apart."

"Ah, now, Hiley, let 'em be." Merta bestowed a motherly smile on the dancers. "That was their dance, and they could do it howe'er they saw fit." She reached out and grasped an arm of each of the newlyweds. "But now 'tis time fer ev'ryone to kick up their heels, and I'm thinkin' these two are goin' to need a few lessons in order to keep up."

Mara grinned.

Luke frowned.

And the lessons commenced.

Guests spilled onto the dance floor, men and women lining up into two separate rows facing each other. Luke and Mara were pulled into the appropriate ranks and were soon caught up in a flurry of bobbing, whirling, foot-stomping motions. The bride's natural grace and affinity for learning new steps made her an instant hit, and every male in attendance clamored to be her partner as the crowd paired off for a series of reels and waltzes. Luke was no less popular, but for a different reason altogether. Every female, young and old, wanted to lay claim to being the first to teach the groom how to spin through a back-door glide or skip to a piper's jig.

Just as Luke was attempting to catch his breath, the quintet of musicians struck up yet another dizzying tune. He managed to evade capture by no less than four would-be partners by scurrying back to his table, detouring just long enough to snatch a mug of sweet cider. As he melted into his seat, doing his best to look inconspicuous, he took the opportunity to study the group of local music makers. He hadn't noticed until now that Efam took center stage, plucking an oval stringed contrivance that he held loosely in the crook of his arm. The rest of the performers he recognized both from his sojourns to the Red Bone Pub and from that morning's hunting excursion. The instruments they wielded ranged from hand-hewn pipes to a highly polished horn-like piece.

"Whew! I can't believe how much faster I get tuckered out these days."

Luke turned as Aerie Modesa sank down wearily next to him.

"That's me cousin Suddy doin' the croonin' now," she continued, her tapping toes keeping time to the fast-paced melody. "He kin warble like a jitterbird."

Luke directed his attention to the current singer, a slim youth who was intoning a rousing ditty while clanging a set of bells with the precision of a master musician in Coruscant's Grand Symphony.

"He's very good," Luke complimented. "I've never had any talent for music myself."

"Me either," Aerie replied. She rubbed her slightly rounded abdomen affectionately. "But maybe I've got a future singer in here."

Luke gave a little chuckle. "At least you've got a double shot at it."

Aerie's face took on a confused expression. "What do ye mean by that? Are ye sayin' I'll be havin' twins?"

"Hmm ... uh ..." Luke worked his jaw as he realized his error. While he had no trouble detecting the two tiny presences that the young woman carried, explaining how he knew such a fact was not something he was prepared to divulge. "I'm a twin, and there's a saying in our village that sometimes twins can sense when a new set is coming. It was really just a guess, though."

"Oh." Aerie apparently accepted his explanation. "Mara mentioned ye had but one sister, but I didna' know she was yer twin. Ye must be missin' havin' her with ye here today."

"Yes, I am," Luke said in a melancholy voice. "Very much so."

Aerie took note of Luke's downcast expression, and to his relief, she didn't pursue the matter. She glanced at the stage as a new vocalist began a lilting folk ballad about a pair of reunited lovers. "This'll most likely be the last song before the petal drop," she said. "And I'm thinkin' yer wife would like to share it with ye."

Luke jerked his gaze outward to see Mara approaching, then glanced back at Aerie as he rose. "What's a 'petal drop'?"

"Ye'll see," she answered, grinning as Mara pulled her husband back to the dancing area.

* * *

**We couldn't have a wedding without a reception, could we? Part 2 of the reception, and then the wedding night, will be coming soon to a computer screen near you.**


	13. Chapter 13

**As always, many thanks to Celtic Cross, Mark C., Mara look-a-like, Elessar-Lover, GreatOne, random-idiot, Nerca Beyul, and especially newcomers LVB, Night Cloak, and iloveronnie21.**

**And now, on with the celebratin'!**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Looks like you've survived all this dancing." Mara twirled gracefully under Luke's outstretched arm as the tempo of the music shifted. "I do believe you're improving, too."

Luke pulled her back against his swaying body. "Yeah, too bad this is the last song of the evening."

Mara snorted at his ill-concealed sarcasm. "One might think you were anxious for this merrymaking to end."

"They can make merry without us." He paused in his lamentation as they both rotated in place, effortlessly executing the steps of the quaint folk dance. "After all, we still have to consummate a marriage tonight."

"You make it sound like some kind of chore." She pulled back slightly to gauge his expression.

"Hardly." He gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

She nodded her head in agreement before letting her gaze drift outwards, unmindful of the revelry that surrounded them. "I just keep thinking of all the times I've asked myself if I was ready for that step."

"Hmmm ..."

"And I know you've asked yourself the same question, admit it."

"Uh-huh ..."

Mara smiled at his apparent inattentiveness. "I think we're both ready now," she pronounced softly.

"Yes, we are," he murmured with a wink, proving he wasn't daydreaming. They glided to a halt as the music ended, hoping they could soon make their exit.

"I'll get your cloak," Luke whispered as they edged their way back to their table. "I spotted a doorway along the rear wall. We can just—"

"Now where do ye think ye be goin'?"

Luke gritted his teeth in frustration as he heard Merta's voice behind him, then put on a halfway convincing smile as he turned to face her. "Isn't the dance over? I thought we'd get ready to leave."

"Not so fast, lad. The night's still young; ye've got plenty o' time fer yer other activities later on." She gave Luke a sympathetic grin. "There be only the petal drop yet, Luke. Then ye two kin leave."

"Oh." Luke vaguely remembered Aerie's mentioning something about petals. "And Mara and I have to participate in this ... whatever it is?" he asked, clinging to the slim hope that her answer would be negative.

Merta gave a hearty laugh, her hands planted on her wide hips. "Do ye not have any customs in yer village the same as ours? Who'd ye think would be catchin' the petals?"

"Sounds like we are," the young Jedi muttered disconsolately as his landlady steered both him and Mara back out to the open area that they'd just vacated.

"You find out what this is about?" Mara whispered to her husband, her eyes now tracking a trio of young girls who were clambering up ladders along a far wall. Each carrying a large wicker basket, the girls trotted across the wide ceiling beams until they were directly above the newlyweds.

"No," Luke murmured, his body tense as he went on alert at the three children's precarious position. "What are they doing up there?" He directed the question at Merta, though his gaze was still focused upward.

"Now how else did ye think the petals would be dropped?" Merta shook her head in patient resignation. "Come on, ye two. I'll explain as ye get ready." She accepted two wide shallow pans that Filia had brought out, shoving one each into Luke and Mara's hands. "The lasses up there will be droppin' dried flower petals, and ye catch as many as ye kin."

Mara stared at the empty pan in her grasp. "Uh ... why?" she asked cautiously.

Merta rolled her eyes in feigned exasperation. "Land's sakes, child. To tell yer fortune, o' course. The petals be different colors, and each color stands fer somethin' representin' yer future."

Luke and Mara exchanged curious glances.

"Do we get to know which color stands for what, so we know which ones to aim for?" Luke asked, his brow furrowing as his question met with laughter from the surrounding crowd.

"It wouldn't do ye much good," Filia spoke up. She produced two large strips of heavy cloth and handed one to Merta. "Seein' as how ye won't be able to see 'em."

(This just gets better and better,) Mara sent silently, stifling her groan of dismay.

(Keep remembering that this is the last ritual tonight,) Luke replied, following Filia to a designated spot a half dozen meters away. (Then we can leave.)

(And if it's not the last ritual?) Mara grimaced as Merta tied the blindfold in a tight knot at the back of her head.

(We're leaving anyway,) declared Luke, squatting slightly so Filia could fasten the cloth over his eyes.

"Don't look so glum, Mara." Aerie's voice drifted through the cacophony of noise in the hall. "This'll be fun."

"Aye," Jaco chimed in. "It was fun fer us, till I saw what Aerie had caught in her pan."

"Why? What did she—?"

"Don't be scarin' 'em, Jaco Modesa," Merta warned. She placed her hands on Mara's shoulders and spun her into position. "Now, yer husband be 'bout ten paces across the floor. Soon as I give ye a bit of a shove, ye hold out yer pan and start circlin' round. Luke'll be doin' the same thing from his side."

"And be careful when ye bump into each other," Aerie called. "Jaco almost knocked me flat twice. Nearly lost all me petals."

"Humph," Jaco retorted. "Wouldna' hurt to have lost a few o' those yellow ones."

Mara turned her head in the Modesas' direction, wincing as she heard Jaco grunt from what must have been an indignant swat from his wife.

Without warning, all the guests began clapping and stomping their feet, and Mara felt herself being pushed out into the open area of the makeshift dance floor.

(Luke?) She could feel his warm presence coming her direction.

(I can sense ... something ... falling on our heads. Flower petals, I suppose.) He shifted deftly to avoid running into her. (Just catch what you can.)

(That's what I'm doing.) She swiveled around to snare a sizable accumulation of the colorful flakes. (_Why_ I'm doing this still eludes me.)

(Because it's ...) His pan outstretched in one hand, he darted around Mara to snag a newly dropped floral windfall. (... fun.)

(Hey, I was going after that batch!) She made a mad dash to beat him to the next lot of booty drifting their way. (Don't forget, there's a reason they put blindfolds on us.)

(So quit acting like you can see the petals coming,) he chastised, at the same time blocking her path to a flowery snowfall directly in front of him. (Stay on your own side.)

(Stay on _your_ own side,) she shot back, grinning as she sensed an even bigger cluster of petals showering down within her reach. (I don't think we're supposed to have sides.)

Just as Luke was about to retort, the din surrounding them stopped as abruptly as it had started. He halted as he felt Jaco approach, and held still as his friend untied the blindfold.

"Are ye sure ye could'na see through this thing?" Jaco held the strip of cloth out, peering at it suspiciously.

"Aye, 'twas odd how ye each managed to avoid the other," Merta added, undoing Mara's blindfold.

"I guess ... we could hear each other's footsteps," Mara said, fumbling for a believable explanation.

"O'er the racket we were makin'?" Aerie questioned. She glanced at the rainbow of petals heaped up in Mara's pan. "I ne'er seen such a passel o' flakes in a single pan, either."

Luke shrugged as Filia stepped forward to retrieve his pan, also mounded high with a myriad of colors. "It looks like we were just ... lucky."

"If ye have that kind o' luck nettin' fish, ye'll be a rich man," Hiley put in.

_I should have bumped into her on purpose, just to make it look good,_ Luke thought, then looked up as Mara, ever attune to his thoughts, glared at him. _Or let her bump into me._

"So what happens now?" the Jedi asked. He watched as the petal-tossers overhead descended to the ground floor and joined several other children gathered around a nearby round table.

"They separate the petals; ye two wait," Merta replied, as she sent the newlyweds back to their seats.

Luke pulled their chairs close together before they slumped into them, Mara resting her head against his shoulder.

"I wonder if these will count, too," Luke murmured, picking a pair of errant pink flakes out of Mara's crown of curls. She glanced briefly at the petals he handed her, then let them drop to the floor.

"You realize that this is all a lot of nonsense."

"Ah, Mara, lighten up. Didn't you ever have anyone tell you your future when you were growing up?"

"Not unless you count Palpatine saying I had the privilege of serving him for the rest of my life." She raised her head slightly to see the faraway look on his face. "Don't tell me in that dreary life of yours you encountered a fortune-teller."

"As a matter of fact ..." He paused, rubbing her shoulders lightly. "Forget it, it's a boring story."

"Go on, farmboy. We don't have anything better to do, at least until we can escape this den of jubilation."

Luke laughed quietly in agreement. "Well, one season there was this traveling carnival that stopped in Anchorhead. It was, I guess, the first year I attended school, and all the other kids were talking about going. So I whined and moped at home until Aunt Beru finally broke down and said she'd take me."

"Whine a lot, did you?"

"Of course not."

Mara raised one eyebrow challengingly.

"Maybe. Occasionally." Luke shifted in his seat, then continued. "So we went to the carnival one day, when Uncle Owen was busy repositioning vaporators or something. I met up with the other kids, but Aunt Beru insisted she needed to stay close by, which annoyed me no end. Fixer and some of the others already called me a baby; I didn't understand why she had to treat me like one."

Mara made a hurry-up gesture in the air with her hand. "The point, farmboy."

"Okay ..." He sighed. "After trying out a few games, we came to this booth where this old lady sat. A soothsayer, she called herself. For a half-credit, she would tell you your future. All the other kids tried it, and she said things like they'd get married when they grew up, they'd be farmers or mechanics or the like. So naturally, I wanted to hear my future, too. Aunt Beru hesitated, but I guess she finally decided the old woman would just say I'd be a farmer forever, since that's how I was dressed."

"And ...? Don't keep me in suspense," Mara drawled, snuggling against his inviting shoulder.

"The lady laid her hand on my head, then got this strange look on her face. She looked up at my aunt, who suddenly started to look kind of scared herself, like she dreaded to hear what the soothsayer would say."

"What did she say?"

"She said that I would be very powerful when I grew up, and would be a savior to the entire galaxy."

"Guess that made you feel pretty good, to look that important in front of your friends."

"For about ten seconds, until they all started rolling on the ground laughing. Then I just hid in my aunt's skirts, crying with embarrassment." He could feel Mara quivering with barely controlled laughter herself. "Hey, I was only six or seven years old."

"Sorry." Mara sat up a little straighter. "But she was right about you, of course. And you had to be relieved that she didn't say you would be stuck on the farm forever."

"Nah, I thought she was just making fun of me. Aunt Beru told me afterwards that fortune-tellers make up good things every so often, just to get people to come and pay them. I was crushed, but the worst part was when we got back home, and I made the mistake of telling Uncle Owen what happened. He blew up at Aunt Beru for even letting me go to the carnival, and declared that the old lady there was crazy, and I shouldn't talk to one of those fortune-tellers ever again."

"You poor thing." She hugged him in sympathy. "Another Skywalker tale to tell our children and grandchildren."

"One of these days I'll rout some childhood stories out of you."

"I didn't have a childhood." Sighing, Mara laid her head back against her new husband.

Luke leaned over and kissed her forehead softly. "I'm sorry," he soothed.

Mara squeezed his hand in gratitude, then glanced up as Filia joined them at the table, setting down a clear glass vial with graduated markings etched on one side.

"Are ye two ready to hear what fate has in store fer ye?" The mistress of the Red Bone gave them a sly wink.

"Do we have a choice?" Mara muttered under her breath, ignoring Luke as he cleared his throat loudly to cover up her complaining.

"As ready as we'll ever be," he replied. He smiled at the young girls who approached their table, each carrying a small leather pouch. The rest of the guests gathered round, all eager to learn the destiny of this year's Festival bondmates.

Filia nodded to a small dark-haired girl in front. "Would ye like to go first, Tenna?"

The girl beamed, and proudly handed her pouch over to Filia. "I collected the yellow petals," she announced.

"Aye, so ye did." The elder woman carefully shook the contents of the bag into the vial. "Two measures," she announced loudly, before noticing the puzzled looks on the newlyweds' faces. "Ye'll have two daughters," she explained patiently.

"Oh." Luke paused, then broke into a happy grin. "Oh! That sounds wonderful, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

"Wonderful," Mara repeated, seeming to mull it over. "I guess I can handle two children."

Filia gave her a little grin, then directed her attention back to the little girls. "Did any of ye find some blue petals?"

"I did!" Bouncing on her toes with excitement, a small blonde produced the pouch requested.

Mara's eyes grew wide as a multitude of blue flakes poured forth into Filia's flask. She had a sinking feeling as to what 'blue' stood for.

Luke peered closely at the final measurement. "Three? Three ..." He looked around, waiting for someone to interpret.

"Three sons!" Jaco called out, reaching over to slap Luke on the back. "Ah, ye lucky buck. Aerie and I had six measures of yellow petals, but not a blue one in the whole lot."

"There be nothin' wrong with baby daughters," Aerie protested, patting her stomach. "Ye'll be happy enough when this one comes."

"Aye, 'tis true," the father-to-be agreed. "'Specially if she be as beautiful as her mother."

(They actually believe these foolish predictions,) Mara sent silently, in amazement.

(It's their culture, Mara,) Luke returned. (You know the future is always in motion.) He gave his wife a discreet wink. (But she's having two of those daughters this time around.)

Mara stared at him, then directed her Force sense to her new friend, who was prattling on about the practicalities of having a bevy of daughters. Lips pressed in a tight line, she concentrated as unobtrusively as she could, then frowned in disappointment. (You'll have to teach me that skill,) Mara directed to her Jedi husband.

(You mean how to get pregnant with daughters?) he returned jokingly. (I think that involves trial and error.)

"Mara, lass?"

The red-haired bride jerked up at the sound of her name, saving Luke from certain retaliation. Merta stood next to her, laughing in merriment. "Ye that famboozled o'er the thought o' havin' five babies?"

"Five? You think I'm going to have five children?"

"Well, not all at once!"

The surrounding crowd snickered at Merta's retort, quieting down when Filia called for the next pouch. Oohs and ahhs filled the Fellowship Hall as two more colors were systematically gauged – six measures each of pink and white, representing passion and purity. Green was brought forth next, and sympathetic moans were heard as a single measure filled the fateful vial.

Luke shrugged as he learned that green stood for bountiful harvests. "Guess this means I'll never be rich as a fisherman," he said, laughing. His good-natured mirth turned to a frown as three measures of red were soon followed by a like quantity of black – 'bloodshed and death' were the given explanations.

"What does that mean?" Mara demanded. "Whose bloodshed? Whose death?"

Filia patted her hand in an effort to allay the young bride's anxiety. "Not necessarily yers or Luke's," she assured her. "It may be folks in yer village that ye barely know, that simply live near ye." The older woman met the concerned looks of the other guests. "Though I must admit, I've not seen that many measures of either of those colors in all the bondin' fetes I've tended to."

Mara glanced at Luke. (How reassuring.)

(You're the one that said this was foolishness,) he reminded her. (Don't start believing anything now.)

Filia dumped the ebony flakes into a large clear belljar, where they joined the rainbow of petals previously counted. "I guess that be all the―"

"Wait!" a small voice squeaked from a cluster of children near the table. "Ye haven't got my pouch yet!"

Mara felt Luke tighten his hold on her hand, and she glanced at the worried expression that filled his face.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he mumbled quietly, as Mara also experienced a prickling sensation of dread.

"What do ye have there, Rasa, child?" Filia held out her hand for the bulging sack. "I can't think what color could be left."

"I've got the prettiest color of all." Rasa grinned in triumph. "Gold!"

Filia's smile froze, and a disturbing hush fell on everyone present. With trembling hands, the matron shook the glittery flakes into her vial, gasping as they nearly overflowed onto the tabletop. She stared back at the child standing before her. "Ye got these from their pans, Rasa?"

Rasa nodded vigorously, and the other young girls who'd been separating the petals confirmed her claim.

"There were lots of 'em," the girl named Tenna said.

"We let Rasa collect 'em, cause she be the youngest," another girl put in.

"I see." Filia studied the gleaming mound of petals, and Luke and Mara had no trouble sensing the anxiety pouring out of the now-trembling woman, nor the feelings of mistrust rolling though the crowd.

"What is it?" Mara asked pointedly. "What does gold mean?"

"It ..." Filia took a breath before continuing. "It stands fer ... magic."

A voice growled from the crowd. "Dark magic ..."

"Witchery," someone else called out.

Mara was on her feet instantly. "Now hold on a minute! This is absurd! Just because of some silly flower petals, you're accusing us of―"

Luke grabbed her arm, halting her tirade as he stood also. "Mara, they're not accusing us of anything." He scanned the crowd of suspicious faces. "Are you?" he challenged quietly. "We had no control over what colors fell in our pans. We didn't even know what they represented." He directed his gaze at Filia. "Surely there have been couples in the past who have caught golden petals."

"A flake or two, every few years," she admitted. She glanced again at the filled vial. "Never in me born days have I seen anythin' like this."

Mara shook her head in disbelief. "But if you drop the same amount of each color, how can others avoid—"

"The sol-blossom be very rare," Filia interrupted. "We have only a handful o' petals to include. It looks like ye've caught 'em all."

"Only a magic spell could direct ev'ry gold flake into their pans."

Mara recognized the sharp voice of Aerie's Aunt Pit, and turned to confront the elder woman. "We didn't cast any spells, and we didn't direct anything anywhere. We didn't even want to do this preposterous stunt." She bristled as she felt Luke's disapproval at the same time that he clutched her arm.

The young Jedi took a calming breath, then addressed the scowling audience. "Many of your customs are unfamiliar to us, but we do not mean to ridicule any of them. Perhaps ..." He searched his mind for some sort of explanation. "Perhaps this unusual occurrence came about because we are strangers in your land." He turned once more to Filia. "You said the black and red petals could foretell events of people near us, not necessarily ourselves. We may encounter others with mystical influence after we return to our own village – beings we have no knowledge of yet."

Merta spoke up for the first time. "'Tis true. We canno' be condemnin' 'em fer somethin' they haven't done."

"Aye," Aerie agreed. "We've no proof Luke and Mara have any doins' with the dark magic."

"The gold petals may have a diff'rent meanin' altogether fer them, 'cause they be outsiders," Jaco put in. "We've been callin' 'em our friends, and I fer one'll not be disownin' 'em o'er a few colored petals."

A murmuring ran through the crowd, as those in agreement began to sway the opinions of the dissenters.

Hiley suddenly stood on a chair, holding out his hands to hush the crowd. "I say we be takin' the golden petals as a sign of how the arrival of these two young people saved our festival this year, and many of yer crops along with it. If there be any magic, it's that there won't be another drought comin'."

"Aye." Filia nodded her gray head. "Me grandmother taught me when I was but a wee lass that interpretations of the colors varied by village. 'Tis possible in their case that gold bears a diff'rent significance."

Luke finally let out a breath of relief, as the majority of the guests voiced their assent. He turned as Efam's large hands fell on his and Mara's shoulders.

"I've got the sleigh waitin' by the rear door," the pub owner whispered. "I'm thinkin' this be a good time to leave."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"How can you always stay so calm?" Mara groused, after she and Luke had gratefully accepted Efam's ride back to the inn. The whooshing of the sleigh's runners through the snow did little to lull her turmoil.

"Jedi training," he replied simply, holding her close against the biting sting of the wintry night.

"But how can they think we're some kind of witches? Just because of some stupid colored flakes."

Luke glanced at the back of Efam's head and lowered his voice. "Sweetheart, to them we would be witches. Not the kind of image we want to create." Snuggled under a thick coverlet with the souvenir jar of petals on Mara's lap, they ignored the slap of the reins as the pub owner drove the team of drobbins forward. "As soon as Hiley makes the new stabilizer rod tomorrow we'll be on our way, and you can forget all about superstitious villagers and fortune-telling flower petals and ..."

"All right, all right, I get your point." Mara laughed, hugging him tightly as the sleigh bounced over a bump in the road. "No more talk of mystical magic tonight. We're just two normal, ordinary ..."

"Newlyweds on their wedding night," Luke finished. He pulled her into a tender kiss that continued until a loud cough jolted them back to reality.

"Don't mean to be interruptin', but would ye not rather continue that in yer room?"

Luke pushed the coverlet back and stood quickly in the now-still sleigh. "Sorry, Efam, we didn't notice that we'd arrived." He jumped out lightly and helped Mara down. "Thank you, for everything."

"'Twas nothin'." The big man chuckled. "I be just a poor, ignorant tavernkeeper who never took no stock in tryin' to see ahead to what a body had in store fer 'im. I love me wife dearly, but I canno' understand why she thinks it be necessary to get young folks all jittery on their weddin' night, 'specially 'bout things they have no say so o'er." Grinning sheepishly, he gestured with his head toward the front door of the inn. "Now ye two get up there and get to doin' what ye're supposed to be doin' tonight. And don't be frettin' o'er what anybody else is thinkin'."

"We'll take you up on that advice, Efam." Luke's hand was dwarfed by the older man's giant paw as they shook warmly. "And thank you again."

"Get on with ye now." Efam climbed back onto the front seat of the sleigh. "Don't be keepin' yer bride waitin'." He gave a snap of the reins to urge the drobbins forward, waving behind him as he disappeared into the night.

"You heard the man." Mara raised one eyebrow invitingly.

"At your service, ma'am." Luke gave a half-bow, then scooped his bride into his arms and entered the homey foyer of the inn. He put her down hurriedly on the second-floor landing, however, as their elderly neighbors Gerd and Rosella stepped out of their room.

"I didn't know you had left the party already," Mara blurted out, straightening her cape and hoping the pair hadn't heard too much of her squealing laughter moments before.

"Some o' us old folks hafta rest our bones fer a spell, didn't ye know." Rosella patted Mara's shoulder in motherly affection.

"But where are you going now?" Luke asked, seeing that they were wearing their heavy cloaks.

"Why, back to the celebration," Gerd answered.

"I thought everything was over for the night." Mara's face showed her puzzlement.

Madam Rosella chuckled good-naturedly. "Only fer the bride and groom. The rest o' us will party till the wee hours o' the morn."

"Ye'll have the inn to yerselves fer most o' the night." Gerd winked conspiratorially to Luke, then escorted his white-haired wife carefully down the stairway.

"You think that was a polite way of saying we can make as much noise as we want?" Luke asked as they continued their ascent.

"You plan on making a lot of noise, farmboy?" Mara teased.

"I may surprise you," he declared. "And myself," he added in afterthought, as he held open the door to their room for Mara.

"Speaking of surprises ..." Mara stared in wonder at the transformation their bedroom had undergone. "I don't think Gerd and Rosella did much resting."

Luke agreed as they stepped into the room. The fire had been newly stoked; lit candles and fragrant greenery adorned the small table and bureau. Even the bedcovers had been turned back in silent invitation.

"Subtle, aren't they," he remarked, as he hung his coat next to Mara's cloak on the wallpegs behind the door. Luke turned to see Mara already sitting on a chair, bending to unfasten the laces of her boots. He watched her a moment, then pulled out the other chair and quickly removed his own boots and socks. Mara was methodically finishing her second boot, so he pushed his suspenders off his shoulders and was beginning to unbutton his shirt when his bride suddenly appeared standing before him.

"Would you undo the back of my dress for me?" Her voice sounded almost timid to Luke's ears. He hopped up instantly as Mara turned around. "Are you nervous?" she continued.

"I'm doing my best not to be," he replied, willing his fingers not to tremble.

"We need to go slow and easy."

"Fat chance of that."

"Luke!"

"I know, I know. I've been advised."

Mara gave him a look over her shoulder that clearly stated she didn't want to know who had been giving him advice.

"Gentle," he recited, as he neared the end of the row of tiny buttons, "yet with just enough force to— Blazing stars, Mara! You're not wearing anything under this!"

Mara laughed at his astonishment. "I was ... advised ... your first reaction would be shock."

"Were you like this all evening?" he sputtered.

"Of course. It's tradition for the bride. The bonding dress is like a wrapping for the gift she is giving her new husband."

Luke thought it best not to comment on how surprised he was that Mara would go along with such a sexist custom. "All brides here do this?" he questioned instead.

"Yes."

He paused in thought. "So, every married man at the banquet, all those ones you were dancing with, knew what you were wearing— uh, not wearing?"

"Not _every_ married man." She gave him an amused grin. "You didn't."

"Everyone but me." He shook his head. "That makes me feel so much better." He finished his appointed task, then straightened up, not sure what to do next.

"I could use some help with these ribbons and pins in my hair, too." Mara tilted her head back, giving him a coy look out of the corner of her eye.

Luke laughed softly. "This from the woman who insisted she didn't need my help even when lying unconscious in a ravine."

"I've gained a new perspective," she said flippantly.

He carefully removed each hair fastener, then ran his fingers through her silky locks as they tumbled over her shoulders. He fingered the open back of her dress, then paused in hesitation.

Mara gave him a gentle smile of encouragement. "Go ahead, ... husband."

He slipped the dress off her shoulders, watching it pool at her feet before she stepped aside and turned to face him. "You are ... exquisite," he managed to get out in a ragged breath, his eyes raking up and down his new bride before returning to her shining face. "I think ... I could use some help with these shirt buttons, too," he stammered, before licking dry lips as she reached out and systematically undid each fastener, stopping only when she reached his trousers. "Keep going, ... wife," he said, forcing calm into his voice as Mara proceeded to silently undress her husband.

Spoken words no longer disturbed the stillness as previous inhibitions were supplanted by desire and acceptance, basic human instinct guiding inexperienced fingertips. Hands and lips began caressing and exploring, seeking and savoring. Two bodies melded into one entity, warmed as much by the heat of their passion as by the fire in the open hearth, its flickering flames casting a shadowy silhouette of the entwined lovers against the far wall.

Innocent, yet intuitively wise ...

Careful, yet carefree ...

The spark that had startled Luke and Mara so long ago in an Imperial prison cell now fanned into a conflagration of Force awareness, rippling through them subtly and unobtrusively, enhancing, not directing. This was their reward, their privilege, their destiny.

The galaxy continued its hectic pace of recovery and rebuilding, oblivious to the rapturous euphoria erupting in a small attic room of a quaint boarding house, in a mysterious village on an obscure planet. For that same galaxy's only Jedi Knight and his bride had embarked on a breathtaking, long-awaited, journey of discovery.

* * *

**What say we give the newlyweds some much-deserved privacy, hmm? More coming in a couple days.**


	14. Chapter 14

**First, for the questions/comments:**

**Nerca**** Beyul: **_Please, tell me: in your story, are Mara and Luke going to have two daughters and three sons? I would really like to know. ― _Wouldn't we all? For privileged information like that, you have to wait until the epilogue to the whole series. Patience, young one.

**Mark C:** _I understand why both Luke and Mara were upset by being accused of being witches. Luckily that was finally put to rest. ―_ Famous last words. And I agree with the red & black petals representing past occurrences, for both of them. The villagers were only thinking of future events, however, and M&L weren't going to enlighten them.

**Amy:** _I bet those rowdy brothers were pretty scared ("Dark magic? So that's how they fought us..."). Good thing Aerie doesn't remember the almost-fall on the ice rink or Luke telling her about her twins--or does she?_ ― Luckily for everyone, the brothers weren't at the party. And Aerie is building quite a collection of unexplained events to start wondering about, isn't she?

_Oh, and wonderful job with the wedding night scene--very passionate and tasteful at the same time._ ― Thank you. That's what I was going for.  
_  
Is the metal-crafting guy going to give them a stabilizer rod for a wedding present? _― You'll find out how Luke pays for the rod in this chapter.

**Also, thanks to Elessar-Lover, Mara Look-a-like, and Celtic Cross for your faithful reviews and shameless begging for more. **

**Brace yourselves. We are now entering the stage at which this story runs amok without regard to plausible plotlines. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Fourteen**

The attic room's hearth fire had burned down to smoldering embers, waiting to be stoked once more into blazing flames – much like the burning passion between the room's sleeping occupants.

Dawn was just beginning to break as Mara Skywalker forced open two weary emerald eyes, and found her vision filled by a head full of disheveled dark-blond hair. Snaking one arm around the waist of her new husband, she pressed against the warmth of his back. Luke stirred after a few moments, then gently escaped her grasp just long enough to turn over to face her.

"We did it," Mara whispered.

"Yeah," Luke breathed in agreement, not needing to ask to what she was referring. "More than once," he added, an amused grin lighting up his face. Snatching Mara's hand as it shot out to playfully swat at him, he brought the delicate fingers to brush against his lips.

Mara smiled as she pulled her hand out of his clasp, then gently stroked his face. "Last night was the first time I'd ever seen you sweat so much, Jedi."

"Won't be the last time," he declared, his blue eyes twinkling.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, accepting his vow.

Their bantering was cut off as Luke suddenly pulled Mara against him, crushing her mouth with a ravenous hunger. They kissed and caressed with a voracious fervor, letting their emotions run free and wild. The sensual tingling that coursed through them quickly escalated, and both partners reveled in each other's pleasure.

Finally Luke pulled back, gulping a much-needed breath. He traced her swollen lips with his fingers. "I love you so much, Mara," he murmured.

"And I will always love you, Luke," she returned, clinging to him. "I can't conceive of anything more wonderful than having my best friend love me, and make love to me."

"Me either." Luke trailed his fingers along the side of her face, pushing an errant strand of red-gold hair behind her ear. He let out a tired sigh, then rolled onto his back. "You wore me out last night, Mrs. Skywalker."

"I wore you out!" she retorted, reverting to her usual sassy demeanor. "I feel like I've been trampled by a runaway bantha. I'm not sure if I can even get out of bed."

"Why would you want to?" he teased. "We'll just lie here until we get the urge again to—"

"Stars, Luke, I haven't recuperated from all the boundless enthusiasm you've already demonstrated." A low moan escaped Mara as she stretched wearily. "I have muscles aching that I didn't know existed."

Luke chuckled lightly, reaching out with the Force to massage her gently. "You weren't exactly lacking in zeal yourself last night." He paused, a note of anxiety permeating his voice as he extended a hand to stroke her. "You _are_ sore. I did hurt you."

"No, Luke, I'll be fine," she assured him. "I'm just a little stiff."

"How can you be certain? What if ...?"

"Will you stop fussing over me? I only need to rest a bit before getting up."

"And you shall, as long as necessary." He kissed her shoulder, then rubbed his cheek against her smooth skin. "I'll be right here to make sure of it."

"You, sweetheart, are the biggest obstacle imaginable to my getting any rest. And don't pretend you don't ache at all, either. I know better."

"Nothing gets by you."

She laughed, then grabbed his arm as he started to rise. "Where do you think you're going?" she growled.

"Stay put, you'll see," he replied cryptically as he slipped out from under the woolen coverlet.

"The only thing I'm not seeing is why you're over there, while I'm over here." Her amused expression gave testament to Luke's obvious discomfort.

Standing near the large fireplace, Luke quickly donned the pair of shorts that had flown across the room into his outstretched grasp. "It's cold in the room," he muttered, as he began coaxing a glowing fire into existence.

"That fact does nothing to answer my query," she called, as Luke disappeared into the refresher. Lying sideways across the bed, she pulled the warm covers tighter around her shoulders and watched as he returned moments later with two buckets of water. "Gonna take a bath?" she surmised aloud, as he hung the pails over the flames.

"We both are," he replied. "I hear that warm soaks are very therapeutic for sore, aching muscles." He glanced in her direction. "Surely you have no objections. I seem to recall you trying to lure me into a shared bath our first night here."

"An attempt which failed miserably," she reminded him.

"Yes, well ... I've gained a new perspective since then," he said, echoing her words from the previous evening.

Mara's cat-like eyes tracked Luke as he padded back and forth – filling, hanging, refilling buckets of water. As the water heated, he began to fold their accumulation of borrowed clothes into a large basket.

"You certainly are a busy little banabee this morning."

"I just think we should be ready to leave as soon as we get the new stabilizer rod. I'll head over to Hiley's shop right after ..., after we ... uh, get cleaned up," he stammered.

"You mean, after you seduce me once more." _He blushes so beautifully,_ Mara thought, her laughter filling the room.

"I think that works the other way around," he corrected, turning to face away from her. "And I'm not blushing."

"Not eavesdropping on my thoughts either, huh?"

Luke just shook his head and continued his packing chores.

"Merta offered to let us have the coats we've been using, and whatever other clothes we'd like," Mara informed him.

"If we wear those coats while traveling, we'd have to carry our flightsuits. It would be too bulky to wear both. It makes more sense to wear the flightsuits, and just keep one change of clothes for underneath them. We can put on our fatigues when we're ready for take-off."

Mara sighed at his logical reasoning. "All right, as long as I can use one of your pairs of trousers. I'm not wearing a skirt under a flightsuit. But I am bringing my wedding dress along."

"You are?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" She frowned at him. "I would have thought you'd want me to keep it. You sure were anxious that we drag that slinky green dress with us through Coruscant's underground."

"Which I have yet to see you wear again," he reminded her.

"I don't recall you asking me to go anyplace where a dress like that would be appropriate," she shot back.

"I ... guess I didn't." Luke gave her a sheepish grin. "We've got a lot of missed opportunities to make up for."

"Sure do, buddy," she rejoined with a snort. "Get married, have sex, start dating – isn't that the order most people follow?"

"Just proves how special we are," he said with a laugh as he surveyed his work. "Okay, survival gear is packed, clothes to keep are packed, and clothes to return are gathered. I think we're all set to leave as soon as Hiley makes the rod. By the way, I'm saving a few dekas to give him, but I thought I'd give the rest of my tackdart winnings to Merta."

"Good idea," Mara agreed. "Though maybe we could keep one or two as souvenirs."

Luke nodded. "Yeah, I don't think that would hurt."

"Oh, and Merta is preparing a rucksack of food for us take along." She chuckled. "She must have heard that you're not a very good shot when hunting game."

"I ate rishhare at the banquet last night, didn't I?" he replied as he went over to the fireplace and checked the temperature of the water. "If you caught something, I'd eat it."

"You'd eat anything, farmboy," she drawled. She stretched out languidly, watching as Luke carried the buckets into the refresher. "If only I didn't have to watch those little hellions this morning," she muttered to herself.

"What's that?" Luke returned to the bedroom.

"I have to babysit that same group this morning, this time while their mothers take down the decorations in the Hall." She grimaced unhappily. "It'd better not take them very long." She raised her chin off her crossed arms and looked up as Luke moved to stand next to the bed.

"You've faced down crimelords, Imperial defectors, Sith, and an occasional Jedi. You can handle a group of children, Mara." He held out both arms invitingly. "How about we go ease those kinks and cramps?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Mara started to edge off the bed when Luke scooped her up in one swift motion, laughing lightly as she clutched one of the covers around herself.

"Now who's being modest!"

"It's still cold in here," she muttered as they entered the adjoining refresher. "And I can walk, you know. There's no need to carry me."

"Humor me." He lowered her body slightly, then lifted her up again. "I may work this into my weightlifting routine." He deftly deposited her in one end of the oval bathtub, the coverlet falling away of its own accord.

"The only thing I've seen you exercise lately is your libido."

"I didn't hear you complaining last night."

"I don't always complain." She smiled as he stepped into the water. "Sometimes I'm quite ... appreciative."

Luke watched the water level rise as he sank down to a sitting position. "Maybe I put a few too many bucketfuls in," he murmured. "We'll have to be careful not to splash any over the sides."

"You're kidding, right?" Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Mara pulled him in for a deep kiss. (Fat chance of that, farmboy.)

(You're right,) he sent back, duplicating her ardent embrace. (We've got plenty of towels to clean up ... any spills ... Oh, Mara ...) Luke moaned as his bride's lips blazed a trail along the side of his neck, and threaded his fingers through her already-wet hair. "Hmmm ..." He leaned back, relishing her ministrations. "This reminds me of when that borrat attacked us in the underground."

"What!" Mara's head jerked up with a start, droplets falling from her nose and chin. "Did I just hear you compare me to a rodent?"

"No, no!" he backpedaled. "That's not what I meant."

Her green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You remember I didn't sense the creature coming because I had been daydreaming."

"Go on." Mara fought the tendril of amusement that threatened to displace her stern expression as she began to imagine what those daydreams had encompassed.

"I had, uh ... been thinking about a dream which I'd had the night before we escaped," Luke stammered in confession.

"And that dream was about ...?"

Luke smiled shyly, pulling her back against him. "Read my thoughts," he invited, "and I'll show you."

Mara entered his mind and followed a 'preview clip' of his fanciful vision. "What a naughty little mind you had already then, Jedi."

"It was a dream," he defended himself. "A guy can't help what he dreams."

"That is the most pathetic line I've ever heard. Though ..." She reached out and trailed a wet finger down his cheek. "It would be a shame to let something that erotic go to waste."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You know I am," she retorted. "A re-creation, at least as much as we can manage in this small tub."

Luke grinned in anticipation. "I think we can manage quite a bit."

Reverie became reality as two bodies and two minds intimately joined, improvising their way through the never-forgotten fantasy of a love-struck farmboy-turned-hero.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I can't believe the water is still warm." Mara lazily swished a hand through the tepid water as she reclined against Luke's chest. "What has it been, an hour since we got in here?"

"Well, actually ..." Luke rubbed one foot against her smooth leg. "I've been keeping it warm."

She twisted around to look at him. "How? With the Force?"

He nodded and gave a wan smile. "You simply have to agitate the molecules, the same way heat affects water."

"I know we've been generating a lot of heat in here, especially when we first got in, but ..." She gave him an incredulous stare.

"But not that much," he finished with a chuckle. "Follow what I'm doing."

Mara reached into Luke's mind, observing as he sought out the individual water molecules and stirred them into action.

"So I guess you could say you're keeping the water _Luke_warm," she quipped.

Luke laid his head back against the rim of the tub and groaned. "That's it. I'm definitely keeping you away from Janson and Klivian and their bad puns."

"I already avoid those two like the plague," she said with a snort.

"They've got a crush on you, you know," Luke observed. "Along with half of Rogue Squadron. They all flock around you, no matter how much you ignore them."

"Yeah, until they spot you heading across the hanger bay. Then they scatter like frightened hawkbats." Mara settled her head back against Luke's shoulder and swirled one finger in a circular motion. "Let me try to—" She was interrupted by Luke's clearing his throat. "All right, let me _do_ the heating up trick."

He enclosed her outstretched hand in his, then wrapped his arms around her. "No hands," he said, kissing her temple lightly. "These aren't parlor tricks. I know it helps you focus, but you can't always rely on being able to hold out your hands." He let her again follow his mental actions, then withdrew his influence as she continued the activity on her own.

"Very good," he complimented her. "You have a natural affinity for the Force." He was silent a moment as he hugged her tighter. "I think teaching you these Force skills officially makes you my apprentice."

Mara frowned as he shifted nervously and fell quiet once again. "Okay, Skywalker, spill it." She twisted around and gave him a pointed glare. "I felt that wave of guilt when you said the word 'apprentice.'"

"Hmmm." Luke bit his lip and raised pleading eyes to his new wife. "There's, uh, something I need to tell you. Before we get to Lorrd."

"Lorrd? What's this got to do with Lorrd?"

"The Lorrdians are sort of under the impression that you're my apprentice."

"And just where would they get that idea?"

"From Mon Mothma."

"And she got the idea from ...?"

"I wanted you to come with me on this assignment," he blurted out. "But the Lorrdians insisted they would negotiate only with Jedi. So I told her you were my Jedi student."

"And she believed you? Here I always thought she was a smart woman. How did you convince her, with a little Force nudge?"

"Of course not," he assured her indignantly. "I used my smooth charm and honest face."

"And dishonest tongue," she added. "Does your sister know about this little ruse of yours?"

"She probably does by now."

"I'm surprise she and her pirate aren't out looking for you."

Luke shrugged. "Maybe they are. But we're still a couple of days shy of the ten days I told the Lorrdians we would be late."

"If they even heard you," she countered. "As garbled as their transmission was to us, who knows how much they caught of what you said."

"Guess so," Luke agreed. "Which means we should get up and get going. I'd like to be on our way by midday." He reluctantly rose, pulling Mara up with him.

Amid plenty of bantering and kissing, Luke and Mara managed to get dressed for their last morning in Zembuhl. Luke held the door open, and with a bow and a flourish he invited Mara to exit ahead of him.

"After you, my love."

"How gallant." Mara started through the doorway, but paused and frowned suspiciously when she noted a sensation of triumph from her husband.

"Gallant nothing," he admitted. "Everyone knows what we've been doing up here. I just want you to be first through the gauntlet of snickers and winks."

"Oh, no." Mara groaned as she thought of all the teasing and sly looks they were sure to encounter as soon as they showed their faces. She grabbed his hand tightly. "We're in this together."

"Yeah, together," Luke echoed.

"At least we have the consolation that we'll never see any of these people again," Mara continued as they descended side by side.

"Hmmm. That's kind of a shame, don't you think? We've made some good friends here." Luke turned to his life companion with a wistful look. "Perhaps we could come back sometime, for a visit."

Mara laughed. "You mean us and our five kids?" She squeezed his hand. "Sure, farmboy. We shouldn't make any promises to them, but I suppose we could find our way back someday."

Luke wrapped one arm around Mara's slim shoulders as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. The newlyweds braced themselves and made sure the smiles on their faces masked the apprehension they were feeling, then entered the crowded dining chamber.

"Good morning, everyone ..."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Tilting her face upward to enjoy the warm sun, Mara Skywalker sauntered through the slushy snow toward the village school building. She was in no hurry to reach her destination, though she guessed that whoever was currently watching the children was surely impatient for her arrival.

She had parted company with Luke moments earlier, as he headed off to fulfill the chore that had brought them to this tiny village in the first place. In a few hours they would be on their way back to the B-wing, and back to civilization. As she walked, Mara reflected on the life she'd soon be returning to – a life as different from her tenure as Palpatine's puppet as Zembuhl was different from Coruscant. Indeed, even different from the aloof and mostly solitary existence she'd led hardly more than a week ago. Luke would do his darndest to draw her into his circle of friends – and she would follow. Not because he'd insist or pressure her, but because she loved him.

Mara had let Luke do most of the talking at breakfast. He had satisfied Merta and their fellow boarders' curiosity with charm and finesse. As much as he maintained that he wasn't skilled in statesmanship, his actions proved otherwise. Luke's words might not be as polished or diplomatically correct as Leia's, but he could convince even the most obstinate being to embrace whatever credence he promoted. How else could one explain why a brainwashed assassin would defy her master, or why a conceited smuggler would take sides in a war he claimed he had no interest in. She had overheard Solo admit that Luke's cajoling had as much to do with his joining the Rebellion as Leia's obvious attraction. Mara only hoped her new husband's powers of persuasion would effectuate a favorable treaty with the Lorrdians.

The sounds of children's squeals reached Mara's ears all too soon. She squared her shoulders and set her chin in determination as she approached the looming doorway. _She could do this. She was Mara Ja—, Mara Skywalker, Jedi wife ... and Jedi apprentice._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

There was a noticeable spring in Luke's step as he headed toward Hiley's metalcrafting shop. He didn't let himself dwell on concerns of how the Lorrdians would receive him, especially after his delayed arrival. He wasn't contemplating his plans for rebuilding the Jedi Order. No, Luke Skywalker's thoughts this sunny winter morning centered on his beautiful wife, and on what a lucky man he was.

"That be a mighty big grin ye got on yer face, lad." The friendly voice greeted the young Jedi as soon as he stepped through the doorway.

"Can't deny that," Luke replied, his smile getting even wider. "Life is good."

Releasing the bellows he'd been pumping, Hiley slapped the younger man on the back with a laugh. "Spoken like a true bridegroom." The wiry toolcrafter had his sleeves rolled up and sweat beaded on his brow. "I wondered how long it would take ye to drag in this mornin'. Ye're actually here sooner than I thought ye'd be. I just now got me fire stoked back to a usable state. Winter Festival be the only time o' the year I let me forge go cold."

"I'm sorry if you rushed because of me," Luke said. "But Mara and I really should be returning to our ... uh, village ... as soon as possible."

Hiley waved off Luke's apology good-naturedly. "I needed to get back to me work anyway." He nodded at a table filled with an assortment of implements in various states of disrepair. "Folks' ability to break things don't take time off fer Festival."

"So I see," Luke returned, his eyes sweeping in fascination over the haphazard pile of unidentified gadgets. "Say, Mara's going to be tied up for awhile this morning. I'd be happy to give you a hand until she's finished, if you show me what to do."

Hiley smiled at the younger man's ill-concealed eagerness. "Ah, lad, that's music to me ears."

Luke and Hiley finished the stabilizer rod in short order, with Luke being as vague as possible when questioned about what part of his 'boat' the contrivance belonged to.

Several hours later, Luke paused to wipe perspiration out of his eyes with his rolled-up sleeve, then continued pounding at the bent pump handle he was currently working on. Blowing out a breath, he held the piece of hardware aloft with a pair of long tongs, frowning as he tried to decide if it had acquired the necessary shape yet.

"Ye need a tad bit more of a curve, lad ... right along there." Hiley reached past Luke's shoulder and pointed to a crook along the handle's tapering end.

Luke nodded and plunged the faulty half of the apparatus back into the fire until the metal glowed red. Laying it once more on the anvil, he resumed shaping it with smooth easy strokes of his heavy hammer. As he toiled, Luke reflected on how much more satisfying this labor felt than the similar repairs he'd performed for his uncle. Perhaps it was because his current exertion was voluntary instead of coerced. Or maybe the level of maturity he'd achieved since his years of servitude on the Lars' homestead had given him new insight into appreciating a simpler way of life. _Or possibly _... Luke smiled to himself, ... _possibly it was because he was in such a great mood this day. _He glanced with pride at the stack of equipment he'd already repaired – a wagon tongue that had been snapped in two, a foot treadle that somehow attached to a churn, and a circular contraption that he still had no clue to its usage. _Wouldn't Mara be impressed when he told her—_

Mara! Almost feeling ashamed that he hadn't thought to contact her earlier, Luke reached out tentatively for his new bride's presence. He was immediately assaulted with feelings of frustration and irritation.

(Mara?) Luke sent hesitantly.

After several long moments, a reply came back. (Listen, farmboy, I don't want to hear what a great time you're having; I can already tell. Go back to playing with your tools, and leave me alone.)

Luke pursed his lips in concern. (Sweetheart, do you want me to come and—)

(No! I'm doing fine. Just let me be.)

Luke had serious doubts about how 'fine' Mara was doing, but he knew better than to argue. He felt her put up barriers against him, and smiled to himself. She knew as well as he did how ineffective any wall between them was. It was more of a 'mind your own business' signal than anything else.

Respecting his wife's wishes, the young Jedi turned back to the task at hand.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mara Skywalker glanced down as a small fist tugged on her skirt. Grateful for the distraction, she hoisted the toddler into her arms.

Luke meant well, she knew. But as much as she loved him, he could still exasperate her with his concern. Apparently he'd been so engrossed in his tinkering that he hadn't even noticed when she'd touched his presence earlier in the morning. She hadn't disturbed him, had simply basked a few moments in his calm, happy aura.

Perhaps she should have soaked up a little more of his unruffled composure, Mara thought, as the din in the room rose another notch.

"Give me that!"

"No!"

"Madam Skywalker, make 'im give it back!"

"I'm tellin'!"

"Madam 'kywalker, do ye wanna see me doll?"

"I want me momma."

"Madam Skywalker?"

"Ma'am!"

"Aaarrgghh!" Mara let out an anguished cry, startling the child she held into squirming her way back to the floor. _Blast it, where were these kids' mothers!_ She had known the children were wound up by how fast their first caretaker that morning, a young woman barely out of her teens, had exited the building. The poor girl had looked distraught as she tossed Mara a grateful 'Thank the stars ye're here!' before flying out the door. Mara had nothing but admiration for the school's regular instructor, who was taking a much-needed vacation this week.

Rubbing her temples wearily, the red-haired newlywed glanced in the direction of the latest outbreak of crying.

"Give me dolly back!"

"No! Yer silly doll is goin' flyin'."

Mara recognized the complainant as being the little girl who had produced the bevy of gold petals the previous evening. The main perpetrator was none other than the adolescent snow-sculptor who doubled as the group's resident bully. He and a friend were tossing a small ragdoll back and forth, just out of its owner's reach.

"What's going on here!" Mara growled, making her way across the room. "Thal, I told you yesterday that I wouldn't put up with this kind of behavior. Give Rasa back her doll."

"No!" the young hector shouted. "Ye're not our teacher, and ye can't make me do anythin'."

"I can and I will," Mara returned hotly. The thought crossed her mind that this was probably how Palpatine behaved as a child, and she nearly laughed in spite of her anger. "Do what I say, _now_!"

Thal threw the cloth figure to his buddy Shae, causing a new round of crying from Rasa. "Ha, ha, ha," the ruffians taunted. "It's a cawbird. It's flyin'. Ye'll never get it!"

Thal's miscreant partner let the doll sail back over Rasa's outstretched arms, chortling at the little girl's vain attempt at snatching it back.

"Thal! Shae!" Emerald eyes blazing, Mara clenched her fists in frustration. "GIVE ME THE DOLL!"

Thal dangled the doll in the air, snickering in glee. "No, no, no! I won't—" His impudent retort died on his lips as the unfortunate doll suddenly flew out of his grasp and into Mara's waiting hand.

"How would you like a taste of flying?" Mara growled in a low, dangerous voice.

"You can't touch me," the boy returned brazenly.

Mara had had enough. It was time somebody taught this boy a lesson. "I don't have to." She lifted one hand slowly, and Rasa's oppressor let loose a squall as he rose a half meter off the floor. The rest of the children froze in place. Only their wide eyes darted between Mara and the kicking, struggling bully who hung suspended in thin air.

A shrill scream unexpectedly pierced the room, and Mara glanced over her shoulder to see two women standing in the open doorway, hands clasped to their mouths in horror.

_Oh, Sith!_ Mara quickly lowered Thal back down, berating herself for letting her temper override her judgment. Her self-reproach turned to dread as she heard one of the women utter a single word of accusation.

"Witch ..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks once again to all those who complimented the last chapter, especially newcomers 'Lady' and 'tink664.' Everyone had good guesses about what's coming up. I'll only say this much ― _Pledge_ has 20 chapters total (yes, it drags on way too long), and Book Three is called _Prism._**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Steam sizzled loudly as Luke plunged the newly repaired pump handle into the tub of cooling water.

"Ye're doin' a fine job there, lad," Hiley complimented from across the cluttered shop. "If ye take a notion to stay in Zembuhl a spell, I'd be glad to give ye a job." The toolcrafter frowned as the younger man stared vacantly toward an outside wall, not replying. "Luke? Somethin' wrong?"

The Jedi's head jerked around, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Oh ... I ... No ... I need to go." He laid the handle near the stack of his other mended contrivances, then quickly removed his borrowed gloves and rolled his sleeves back down. "I'm sorry, but ... I need to check on Mara," he said, fumbling for an explanation. "I think she ... something's going on."

"If ye say so," Hiley replied, puzzled by the abrupt change in his temporary assistant. "I thank ye fer the help ye did—" He was cut off as Jaco Modesa suddenly rushed into the shop.

"Luke!" Jaco shouted, struggling to catch his breath. "Ye've got to come quick! They've got Mara!"

"Who's got her?" Luke grabbed his coat and headed to the door, ignoring the incredulous look that Hiley gave him.

"Half the village. They've got her trussed up in the school buildin'."

"Trussed up?" Luke narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." Jaco put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But they be callin' her a witch."

"I thought that nonsense was settled last night," Hiley put in, as he followed the pair out to the street.

"So did I," Jaco said, glancing aside at Luke, who appeared to be deep in concentration as he strode along at a brisk pace. "But somethin' happened with the children—"

"Children?" Luke interrupted. (Mara? Answer me,) he sent silently. He shook his head in frustration as Mara sent back a sense of wellness, but refused to answer in words.

Jaco nodded at Luke's query. "Some of the womenfolk were near hysterical – kept blubberin' that the witch was hurtin' their young'uns."

"Sithspawn." Luke bit out the low curse and quickened his pace. "I should have gone to her sooner ..."

Hiley grabbed Luke's arm, jerking him to a halt. "Ye knew Mara was in trouble before Jaco showed up." He lifted an eyebrow more in curiosity than accusation. "How?"

"It's ... hard to explain." Luke's steady gaze bore a plea for understanding. "I need to make sure she and the children are safe."

Hiley let go, cognizant of the younger man's anxiety. His questions could wait.

As the trio mounted the steps of the school building, they were immediately confronted by the angry mob inside.

"Look, it be the witch's husband!"

"He surely be one of 'em, too."

"Don't let 'im through."

Luke couldn't see Mara, but felt her presence and her tightly controlled emotions. Before he could start to push his way ahead, he caught sight of a friendly face coming his way.

"Luke!" Merta was wringing her hands frantically. "Thank the Divine One ye're here. I couldna' stop 'em from holdin' her."

"It's all right, Merta." Luke lightly touched his landlady's shaking hands and sent out a calming touch. "Just tell me exactly what happened."

Merta relaxed noticeably and drew him away from his accusers. "Alfa Jueldent and Theda Nondes left the Hall early, to give Mara a hand with the young ones. Alfa come runnin' back fer help, cryin' that Mara had cast a spell on the children. She claimed ..." The stout woman took a deep breath and continued. "... that Thal Ulhas was danglin' in midair, and that Mara had her arm pointin' to 'im, keepin' 'im that way. I ne'er heard such a wild tale in all me born days, but folks are believin' it, and won't let her loose."

Luke blew out a breath of exasperation. "Was the boy hurt?" he asked. "Or any of the other children?"

Merta shook her head. "Not so I could tell. He was whinin' to his momma, lookin' fer sympathy, but that be his nature. The rest o' the children were a might shook up, that be all."

"I need to talk to Mara." Luke patted Merta's arm in comfort. "Thank you."

As the Jedi headed away, several villagers stepped in his path, blocking the way. Luke held up one hand and stared the men down. "You will let me pass." His quiet voice projected a calm authority, and the crowd parted as if possessed. The resulting passageway afforded Luke his first glimpse of his wife.

Luke could see Mara sitting quietly on a bench against a back wall. Paying scant attention to the surrounding men holding long-handled axes, wide-bladed hunting knives, and other crude weapons, he sat down lightly next to his wife.

"Aren't you afraid you'll be guilty by association?" Mara stared straight ahead, refusing to look him in the eye.

"I'm quaking in my boots," he retorted dryly, before directing a pointed gaze at the heavy cord binding her hands together.

Mara shrugged noncommittally. "It makes them feel safe."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I'm sure you've already heard."

Luke gave a barely discernable shake of his head. "I want to hear it from you."

Mara bit her lip and fingered her rumpled skirt. "You know I have no experience with children."

"That's not what I asked." He waited until she finally met his gaze. "What did you do, Mara?"

"She cast a spell on our children," someone in the crowd called out.

"We should hang her, like she tried to do to poor Thal," another voice put in.

Luke shot a silencing, warning look at the eavesdropping villagers, then turned back to Mara. "Tell me."

Mara grimaced at the commanding tone of his voice. _Why didn't he just say it? He was disappointed in her. He'd expected better of her._ Mara started to lash out at him, then found herself drawn to his pale blue eyes. In them she saw not condemnation, but concern. Concern, compassion, ... and love. Shame flooded through her as she hunched forward, squeezing her own eyes shut. She felt Luke's arm slip around her in a comforting embrace.

"I love you, Mara," he whispered, his forehead pressed against her temple. "I just want to hear from you what transpired, so we can work through this together."

_How could anyone in the galaxy possibly be this understanding?_ Mara raised her bound hands and rubbed at her eyes. She would _not _cry. She had learned that lesson at the tender age of seven, confessing an unpardonable training error to an unforgiving master. _Admit your failure. Accept your punishment. _Taking a deep breath, she shook away the Emperor's voice echoing in her head.

"Thal was taunting little Rasa, and wouldn't stop." Mara lowered her voice, more an indication of her reluctance to disclose her actions than a precaution against anyone overhearing. "I levitated him a bit, just to scare him."

Mara waited for the expected reaction, then narrowed her eyes when all he did was compress his lips in thought. "You already knew," she bit out.

"I knew what," he replied calmly. "Not why." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye with what Mara could only interpret as a mixture of amusement and reproach. "Actually, I'm still waiting to hear the 'why' part." His half-smile abruptly turned to a frown, and he sat upright in consternation.

"Someone's in trouble," Mara mouthed, knowing Luke had felt the same tingling of danger that she had.

"Yes, but where?"

"FIRE!" The cry echoed into the building from the street. "The Hall's on fire!" Agitation rippled through the crowd as some villagers immediately ran for the Fellowship Hall, while a few others debated on whether to abandon the current crisis for the new one.

The newlyweds both sprang up in unison, Mara's bonds falling to the floor as she casually flicked her wrists. Their forward movement was halted by a hayfork menacingly pointed their way.

"Where d'ye think ye're goin'?" a grizzled farmer warned.

"Let 'em through, Bidlu." Hiley stepped up to intervene. "It'll take ev'ry hand we kin muster if the Hall be on fire."

Whether it was Hiley's argument or a desire to get to the fire themselves, Bidlu and the remaining 'guards' put their weapons aside, allowing Luke and Mara to join the flow of anxious villagers running toward Zembuhl's Fellowship Hall. There they found the community already furiously battling the quickly spreading inferno. Nearly the entire wooden floor of the immense building was ablaze, fueled by the paper decorations which had been gathered into baskets by that morning's work crew.

A brigade of men, women, and children were passing buckets of water from a nearby well, while others shoveled snow onto the flames. Desperate villagers were attempting to smother the tongues of fire with coats and blankets, but most found themselves driven back by the heat and smoke.

As the Jedi approached and began assessing the situation they were hailed by Jaco, who had reached the site ahead of them. A distraught Aerie was wailing uncontrollably, and it was evident that Jaco was having to bodily hold her back from rushing into the burning building.

"Luke! Mara!"

"Jaco!" Luke returned, shouting to be heard over the surrounding din.

"Aerie's little sister be trapped on the rafters inside, with two other children," the dark-haired man explained in a rush. "They were takin' down the streamers when the fire started, and their ladder has been felled by the flames."

"We'll get them out," Luke vowed, already turning toward the conflagration. After giving her sobbing friend a reassuring hug, Mara followed her husband.

"Find me some strips of cloth and wet them," he directed. "The smoke will be worse near the roof."

Without pausing to think, Mara pulled up her overskirt and ripped off sections of the petticoat underneath. She doused them in a nearby pail of water and handed the strips to Luke, who stuffed them in his pocket. Mara started to follow Luke to the wide doorway of the Hall, but he held out a hand to stop her.

"I'll get the children down," he shouted.

"I can help you," she countered.

"Mara, I need you to help put out the flames." Luke glanced around at the white drifts of snow. "Scoop up the snow with the Force." He swept one arm out to demonstrate, and startled villagers scurried out of the way as a large sheet of snow flew through the air and landed on the edge of the flames inside.

"Got it," Mara acknowledged with a nod. Even her staunchest accusers recognized that she was helping, not hindering, and they begrudgingly cleared a path for the 'witch' to work her magic.

―――――

Luke stepped as far into the Hall as he could, the smoke already stinging his eyes. Above his head he could sense the children – terrified and losing hope. Taking one last deep breath of fresh air, Luke leapt up and landed lightly on one of the wide beams that crisscrossed the inside of the structure. Squinting through the haze, he could make out a solitary prone figure clinging to a rafter for dear life.

The Jedi sprinted across the expanse, then knelt in front of the frightened girl. "Almie?" he called, hoping he had remembered correctly the name Aerie had rattled off last night.

The girl raised her head at the sound, peering into the stranger's face with a child's curiosity. "I'm ... Tenna," she croaked, coughing as she spoke. "Who ... are you?"

"Luke," he responded, doing his best to instill a wave of calm into the child. "From the party last night, remember?" He laid one hand on the girl's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, then grimaced as he looked below him to see that the fire had already spread to the spot he had jumped from. Without a safe area to land, all he could do was collect all three trapped youngsters and hope that the fire would be extinguished enough by then to descend. "I'm going to get you down from here, but we have to get the other children, too."

Tenna bobbed her head in understanding.

"Tenna, I want you to climb onto my back." He gently tried to pry the girl's iron grasp away from the rafter. "Tenna, honey, you have to let go of the beam. I won't let you fall, I promise."

"I'm scared," the child squeaked, tightening her grip on her wooden security blanket.

"I know," Luke soothed. "But you can't stay here." He remembered the strips of cloth in his pocket when he paused to choke back a cough. "I'm going to put a scarf over your mouth and nose, so you can breathe better. All right?"

Tenna allowed him to tie the wet cloth around her head and after another round of coaxing, sat upright on her perilous perch. Luke was beginning to wish he'd had Mara accompany him after all, as the girl refused to relinquish her grasp on his arm. Finally he was able to maneuver around to where Tenna was at his back.

"Now, put your arms around my neck."

The girl needed no further encouragement, clinging to him in a chokehold. "Not that tight!" Luke gagged reflexively, reaching back to settle Tenna's light form into a more comfortable position. "Okay, now we need to get the others."

Proceeding a bit slower to avoid frightening his passenger, Luke edged his way across the network of rafters toward the next youthful victim. "Almie?" he called, hoping he had the right name this time. A wracking cough mixed with sobbing was his only answer.

"That's Almie," Tenna affirmed into his ear, her voice muffled by the damp cloth.

Luke laid a hand gently on Almie's back. "Almie, I'm Luke. I'm going to get you down." Looking below him, he could tell that the orange glow of flames was beginning to diminish, but thick smoke still hung in the upper reaches of the room. "Hold on just one more minute, all right? I'm going to put a wet cloth over your mouth, to keep the smoke out." He deftly tied the strip onto the shaking child, carefully maintaining his balance while choking back his own coughing.

(Mara!) Luke called silently as inspiration struck. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his lightsaber. (I'm going to cut a hole at one end of the roof. Can you help me channel the smoke out?)

(Yes,) came the terse reply, Mara's voice sounding distracted.

Luke felt Tenna's hold tighten as he levitated the saber into the air, but to the child's credit, she didn't panic. He triggered the activation switch as the instrument neared the opposite end of the roof, the green blade glowing eerily through the smoky haze. As quickly as he dared, Luke sliced a circular hole in the eave, then lowered the slab of wood to the floor below. Quickly calling his lightsaber back, he felt Mara join his effort in pushing the dense smoke out the natural draft created by the opening.

Now breathing a little easier, the young Jedi turned his attention back to his rescue mission. "Okay now, Almie. I'm going to help you sit up, then I'll pick you up."

"Don't be scared, Almie," Tenna put in. "He won't drop ye."

"'kay," Almie sniffed, scooting upright on the beam as Luke kept a steady hand on her.

Luke brushed the girl's blonde curls away from her soot-streaked face, then hoisted her into his arms. "Two down, one to go," he murmured to himself.

"We not be down yet," Tenna reminded him as they moved toward the third trapped child.

Luke chuckled softly. _How could Mara have trouble with children such as these?_ "Just a saying, Tenna." He looked across the two-meter open expanse to where the last lone figure clung tenaciously to a broad timber. The nearest crossbeam was at least fifteen meters away, and directly in the path of where the lingering smoke was now being drawn out into the winter sky. Bad planning on his part, Luke thought, but nothing to be done about it now.

"Girls, what is your partner's name?"

Tenna, definitely the talkative one, spoke up first. "Kavan."

"Kavan!" Luke called to the boy. "We're going to jump across to you."

"Jump?" Almie and Tenna asked in unison, both their heads swiveling to survey the distance.

"Sure." Luke hugged Almie a little tighter, and patted Tenna's arms that encircled his neck. "You trust me, don't you?"

After a moment of hesitation, both children answered affirmatively.

"Good. Now close your eyes, and don't look down." Luke took a deep breath, sharing an aura of security with his passengers. "One, two, three ..." Bending his legs, he sprang across the yawning gap and landed lightly near Kavan's head.

A cheer arose from Tenna and Almie, but it was drowned out by the terrified gasps coming from the adults watching from below.

(Thanks a lot, farmboy,) Mara sent up to her husband. (Leave me down here to deal with the neurotic parents who're witnessing your crazy antics.)

(You can handle it, sweetheart,) he returned. (I'm a little busy.) Luke turned his attention to the young boy who was eyeing him warily. "Kavan, are you doing all right?"

"Uh-huh," the youngster replied. "I knew ye had to get Tenna and Almie first, 'cause they be girls, and girls be more scared."

The girls in question huffed indignantly, and it was all Luke could do to stifle his amusement. "Well, you're a brave lad, Kavan, but now it's your turn." Luke crouched down by the boy, helping him to sit up with his free hand.

Kavan narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he surveyed his already-burdened rescuer. "I can stand by meself. Ye canno' carry me too, with both o' them."

Luke hesitated, gauging the short distance they would need to travel to be over a safe spot to descend. It would be rather cumbersome to carry all three children, and no doubt the boy had excellent balance or he wouldn't have been up there. "All right, but you have to hold my hand. We're going to walk along the rafter until we're close to the doorway." He shifted Almie slightly in one arm, and gripped Kavan's hand tightly. "Everybody set?"

A chorus of yes's answered his question, and the troupe made its way carefully across the heavy beam, stopping just before the end wall of the building.

"But how are we gonna get down?" Tenna voiced the obvious question. "The ladder fell down in the fire and burned up."

"We're going to jump," Luke replied. "Just like we jumped over to Kavan."

"But this is farther," Almie objected, her head turning around to look below.

"Are ye gonna use yer magic agin?" Tenna asked.

"Magic?" Luke wasn't quite sure how to answer the query. Did the adults' prejudices extend to their children?

"Like ye floated yer light stick to cut the hole," Kavan clarified.

"Ye had lots o' gold petals last night," Tenna continued in a matter-of-fact manner. "So ye must have lots o' magic."

Luke remembered that Tenna was one of the children separating the fortune petals at the previous evening's banquet. "Uh, yes. It will take a little magic," he admitted. Better to admit to magic, he reasoned, than to have them think they could try a stunt like this on their own someday. "We're going to float down, just like a leaf floats to the ground when it falls off a tree."

Even Almie's apprehension change into anticipation. Luke convinced Kavan to let him hold him in the crook of his arm, and the group readied themselves for the coming drop.

"All right now, everyone, on the count of three."

Brimming with nervous excitement, the children hugged their savior tightly, joining him in the countdown.

"One, two, three!"

Calling on the Force more intensely than he could ever remember, Luke stepped off into empty space, hoping that the screams of terror below them wouldn't rekindle the children's fear. The quartet drifted slowly downward, landing lightly near the open doorway.

Panic-stricken parents rushed forward, snatching their children away from the Jedi as quickly as they could.

"Are ye insane?" one of the fathers shouted. "Jumpin' from that height with our children!"

"I—" Luke began, but he was cut off by a distraught mother.

"Don't ye ever touch our children again," she cried, clutching Tenna against her.

"Welcome to the world of child abusers," Mara smirked. "They're convinced I started the fire with my witchery."

Luke frowned and shook his head in dismay. "You did contribute greatly to putting it out, my darling sorcerer. I was watching you work out of the corner of my eye, you know."

"The corner that wasn't tearing up from smoke?" Mara rejoined dryly.

"Exactly." Luke stepped wearily to Mara's side, slipping his hand into hers. He watched as the parents and other villagers fretted over their offspring, examining them for any injuries. "How did the fire start? Do you know?"

"From what I gathered, when word reached here about my ... uh, indiscretion ... at the school, one of the women knocked over a candle in her hurry to leave." Mara grimaced, leaning back against Luke. "So I guess, in a way, it was my fault."

"Nonsense," he replied. "It was an accident." He looked up as Jaco and Aerie approached.

"I want to thank ye fer savin' me sister and the others." Aerie grasped Luke's free hand, squeezing it in gratitude. "And Mara, I don't believe those terrible things they be sayin' about ye. I know ye would never hurt anyone."

"Thank you, Aerie," Luke answered for both of them. "We're just glad no one was hurt." His gaze drifted to where Hiley was making his way through the crowd, grateful for another supporter amid the sea of scorners. The Jedi's hint of a smile turned to a frown, however, when he saw the look of dismay on the toolcrafter's face.

"Luke, Mara." Hiley nodded in greeting as he neared. "I seen what ye both did, and I'm thankful ye were here to help, but ..."

"But what?" Mara said warily, her mind swimming with possibilities of what else could go wrong today.

"Some of the villagers, well ..." The older man scratched at his head, reluctant to reveal the directive he'd been elected to deliver. "They be wantin' an explanation of ..."

"Of who we are," Luke finished. "And all of you deserve that much."

"I'm supposed to bring ye to the pub," Hiley continued. "The village council is meetin' there."

"Very well." Luke laid one arm lightly around Mara's shoulders as they followed the metalcrafter down the snow-covered street. Other citizens were streaming the same direction, giving the newlyweds looks of both awe and contempt.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Thal," Mara said quietly to Luke as they walked.

"Sorry you levitated him, or sorry you got caught?" He squeezed his hand gently on her shoulder to show he wasn't angry.

"Both," she admitted. "He was being a bully, and I lost my temper. It was a stupid thing to do." She gave him a sideways glance. "I don't know how you stayed so blasted calm at the school."

"What did you expect me to say? – 'Mara, how could you have pulled such a bone-headed stunt?'"

"I would have deserved it."

"I'm practicing my serene Jedi Master role," he explained lightly. "Besides, I didn't have a gimer stick handy to rap your knuckles with." Luke shrugged and turned serious. "I couldn't convince myself that I wouldn't have done the same thing in your position." He smiled wanly. "Where were you when Fixer was picking on me?"

"Training to pick off targets at a thousand meters," she replied matter-of-factly.

Luke just nodded, once again reminded of how different his and Mara's upbringing had been – and how much alike they could have been if his father had raised him. In hindsight, perhaps being hidden and lied to had been to his advantage after all.

* * *

**Abrupt ending, I know, but this was one of those chapters without a good stopping point. More in a day or so.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for all the reviews. Now let's eavesdrop on a witch trial, Zembuhl-style.**

**

* * *

**

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Sixteen**

Inside the Lucky Red Bone Pub, anxious citizens were shoving tables and chairs into optimum viewing positions. All movement ceased, however, as Hiley ushered the suspected sorcerers into the room. Luke could feel Mara stiffen beside him as the animosity in the air threatened to overwhelm their senses. Resolutely ignoring the pointed glares and whispered accusations, the pair sat at the small table shown to them.

"Hiley, what's to happen next?" Luke asked.

"The village council will decide what to do 'bout the two of ye," the toolcrafter replied.

Mara narrowed her eyes questioningly. "Do about us?"

"Aye," Hiley acknowledged. "Folks fear ye might cast a spell on 'em, like ye did Thal."

"You know we would never hurt anyone." Luke looked his friend in the eye. "Don't you?"

The older man gave a half-smile. "I believe ye, lad. But the way ye leaped up onto the rafters back at the Hall, then floated back down with the young'uns ..." Hiley shook his head. "That just ain't natural."

Luke sighed. No, it wasn't natural. He wondered how he and Mara were going to explain themselves without frightening these good people any more than they already were.

"Hiley," Mara spoke up. "Has there never before been anyone who has displayed unexplained powers?"

At Luke's raised eyebrow, Mara added silently to him, (Beings with a talent for the Force have been known to pop up throughout the galaxy. Why not here?)

Luke nodded, and turned to hear Hiley's reply.

The wiry man rubbed his chin in thought. "Me granddad told tales of a witch in the village o' Rispfel, when I was just a lad. They say she could turn folks into addy-goats."

Mara had to fight the impulse to roll her eyes. "What happened to her?"

"Why, they hanged her, o' course."

"How reassuring," the redhead replied, slumping back in her chair. While she had no fear of her or Luke being hanged, or any similar sentence, she hoped they wouldn't have to fight their way to freedom.

Luke watched as the owner of the pub took a seat at the front of the room.

"Who's on the village council?" the Jedi asked the metalcrafter.

"Efam there, and the vicar." Hiley gestured as the clergyman sat down next to the pub owner. "And Healer Jobilis. He's still tendin' to folks at the Fellowship Hall, I 'spect."

"I didn't sense ... didn't notice that anyone was injured," Luke said, concern filling him that he had overlooked wounded villagers.

"Just a smatterin' o' light burns on folks when they was puttin' out the fire," Hiley replied. "Nothin' that a bit o' liniment won't heal up right quick."

It was only moments later that Sila Jobilis, Zembuhl's medical figure, strode into the pub. The silver-haired man gave an ambiguous nod to Luke and Mara before taking his own seat.

"He looks familiar," Mara commented, trying to remember where she'd met the last council member.

"I believe you were dancing with him last night," Luke reminded her.

"I hope that works in my favor," she quipped back.

"It would for me." Luke gave her a wistful smile. "You didn't step on his toes, did you?"

Mara favored her husband with a smirk. "I never step on anyone's toes. Except, of course, for farmboys who can't keep them out of the way."

"I'm doing better," Luke protested. "I think they're getting ready to start." He nodded toward the front of the room.

After a brief consultation with his associates, Efam stood and rapped his wooden cudgel on the table, effectively calling the meeting to order. Luke had already established in his mind that the robust business owner was as close to a prefect as Zembuhl had.

"Now then," Efam began. "First we want to be hearin' from Alfa Jueldent and Theda Nondes. Ladies, tell us what ye saw when ye entered the school."

Theda Nondes, a short dour-faced woman, rose from her seat near the front. She glared menacingly at Mara before speaking.

"Alfa and me, we went over to the school buildin', to see how the girl was doin' with our children. I told folks we shouldn't be leavin' the young'uns with this stranger fer a second mornin', 'specially after all them gold petals showed up last night, but _some_ bodies," Theda gave a condescending look over her shoulder at Merta, "think they know better than me. As soon as we went up the steps, I knew somethin' was wrong. All I could hear was Thal Ulhas, hollerin' at the top o' his lungs."

Theda paused in her oration, and Mara swore the woman was savoring every drop of rapt attention she was receiving.

"And then I caught sight o' poor Thal, flapping his arms and legs like a bird caught in a fence. Only there weren't no fence – he was danglin' in the air with nothin' but empty space 'neath him. And she ..." Theda pointed one stubby finger directly at Mara. "She was holdin' him there with her dark magic, pointin' at the boy just like I be pointin' at her right now."

A low murmur echoed through the crowd, and the newlyweds had no trouble detecting the sense of consternation in the room.

"She be a witch, and she put a hex on the boy, sure as I be standin' here," Theda continued, the loathing she felt for Mara evident in her biting voice. "It made me blood run cold, it did, seein' what she was doin'."

At Theda's last words, an uproar of condemnation of the newcomers erupted from the villagers.

"They be possessed!" a thickly accented voice proclaimed from the rear of the room.

"Aye, just like Odus Pruden said," added another villager.

Supportive mutterings rose again, lessened only by the insistent banging of Efam's club.

Mara scrutinized the assemblage. "Speaking of Pru—"

"There were two of them outside the school building," Luke cut her off. "I haven't seen any of them since."

"I'm surprised they're not here, readying the nooses."

"Don't go looking for more trouble. We have plenty already." The Jedi directed his attention back to the front of the room, where Efam was attempting to restore a semblance of order.

"We only want to hear what ye saw, Theda, not what ye are supposin'."

"Humph." The pudgy woman planted her fists on her hips. "I saw her callin' on the black arts, that be what I saw."

"What happened then?" asked Vicar Serole in an effort to keep the proceedings as orderly as possible. "Did the lad keep hangin' in the air?"

"She lowered him," Theda admitted. "After she saw she was caught red-handed."

"And the other children?" Healer Jobilis questioned. "Was anythin' happenin' to them?"

Theda shot Mara another bitter glare. "They were froze in place. She conjured up spells on them, too."

Mara sprang up in protest. "I did nothing of the sort. She's making things up."

Efam rapped his cudgel loudly at her outcry. "We'll be listenin' to yer side soon enough, Mara," he advised the new bride.

Mara reluctantly settled back into her seat, shaking off Luke's hand, which had been tugging on her elbow. "And she's calling _me_ a witch," she mumbled under her breath. (Tell me why we're putting up with this ... this ... witch trial,) the former assassin sent silently to her husband. (And why are they only denouncing me? You were the one leaping all over Hall and using your lightsaber.)

(I'm sure my turn is coming,) Luke returned. (Mara, we can't just wave our hands, Force-whammy everyone, and sneak out of town.)

Mara hid her smirk behind one hand. (I don't know why not.) She watched as Efam next asked Alfa Jueldent for her version of that morning's events. A suspicious frown suddenly crossed Mara's face. (You did get the stabilizer rod, didn't you? You aren't going along with this farce 'cause we're going to have to stay several more days, are you?)

(It's finished.) Luke tore his attention away from the proceedings long enough to give his wife a quick grin. (As I recall, it was _your_ assignment to get a replacement for the rod.)

(I would have, if it wasn't that 'womenfolk' aren't supposed to be seen in a toolcrafting shop.)

(Good thing you've got me.) Luke stretched one arm out to lay casually across the back of Mara's chair, his fingertips tracing circles on her shoulder.

Mara tried to come up with some kind of witty retort, but the only thought swirling in her mind was that she _was_ glad she had him. He was her rock, her anchor in the middle of a tempest, her oasis in the stifling heat of adversity. But that didn't mean she always agreed with his actions ...

Alfa Jueldent was a tall willowy woman in her early thirties, plain-looking and unmarried. As Efam called her to stand before the assembly, Alfa's nervous habit of biting her fingernails was temporary replaced by a compulsion to twist her pocket handkerchief into tiny tourniquets around her callused fingers. Her skittish eyes gave Mara a frightened glance before returning to focus on Theda Nondes, who was leaning forward in her seat, imparting uncompromising instructions to her submissive protégé.

Mara could feel Luke sending the timorous woman a soothing balm of reassurance that she need not fear his wife.

(Why are you doing that?) Mara bit out silently.

(She's nervous.)

(Good. Let her be nervous.) The former Emperor's Hand adopted the maligned expression that had once been her standard, broadcasting to everyone around her that Mara Jade was not someone to be trifled with. It was demeaning enough to be fingered by an old maid and an old biddy.

(Mara ...)

(I want her more frightened of me than of Theda. She's less likely to exaggerate that way.)

Luke fell silent, and Mara could feel him remove his influence from Alfa. _Let him chew on that awhile, _she thought. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide if her psychology sounded logical or not.

Regardless, Alfa seemed to pull herself together. Her thin lips barely moved as she gave a succinct and accurate testimony to what she'd witnessed, concluding with her mad dash to the Fellowship Hall for assistance.

"Did ye stay at the Hall then, or return to the school?" questioned Healer Jobilis.

"I went back to the school, and stayed with the children."

"So ye did'na see what took place at the Hall, then?" Efam glanced at Luke as he spoke.

Alfa shook her head. "Nay, I only heard tales o' the wondrous things that happened there."

"Wondrous?" Theda's voice reverberated with disapproval at her companion's choice of words. "More like dreadful." She spitted Luke with a withering glare that would have made anyone else's flesh creep. "That man scared the livin' daylights out o' those poor trapped children, not to mention frightenin' their parents out o' their wits. He be a demon, too, just like his wife."

"He saved the children!" Aerie spoke for the first time. "He saved me sister and the others. I'll not be listenin' to ye talk ill o' him or Mara."

Efam once more resorted to banging his club on the table to quiet the rising tide of opinions being shouted out.

"Did either of ye actually see what went on inside the Hall?" the pub owner impatiently addressed both Theda and Aerie. When both women admitted that they had not, he continued in his gruff voice. "Then I be askin' fer any person who did to step forward."

Only about a half dozen men and women stood, even though nearly everyone in the room had helped battle the fire. Those that remained sitting displayed an air of nervousness, evident by the furtive glances they stole at the Jedi.

The three members of the council surveyed those beings brave enough, or irate enough, to face the possibly vindictive wrath of two apparent sorcerers. They finally decided to call on Jaco Modesa and Predi Wiseus, the latter being the father of Tenna, one of the girls rescued by Luke.

"Jaco Modesa be a friend o' the witches," Theda objected immediately. "It would'na be fittin' to have him speak."

"And Predi Wiseus has been denouncin' Luke fer darin' to touch his precious daughter ever since her feet touched the ground," countered Aerie, her eyes blazing in reproach at Theda. "I don't hear ye carpin' 'bout his selection."

"Ladies, please!" This time it was Vicar Serole who called for order. "Since Jaco and Predi both be kin of the lasses rescued, they woulda been watchin' Luke's actions as close as any of ye. And I trust them both to give a fair report of what they seen."

"Hah!" Theda retorted. "This be no fair trial anyways. Efam there's been hobnobbin' with ... him ..." she waved an accusatory hand in Luke's direction, "since he set foot in Zembuhl. And no disrespect to ye, Vicar, but ye committed sacrilege fer sure, lettin' 'em in our place o' worship, and bondin' 'em there, to boot."

"Aye." A tall gangly man with a drooping black moustache added his assent. "I'd bet me last deka our crops this year won't even be worth keepin'. Marryin' a pair of sorcerers in the church can bring naught but a curse on us all."

Mara could feel Luke stiffen at the blame leveled at the town's venerable clergyman. (We'll get our chance to refute what they're saying,) she reminded him silently.

"It's not been decided that they are sorcerers," the vicar stated in his defense. "I'm askin' ye all to sit down, so's we can get on with the 'vestigation."

After the crowd quieted down once more, Jaco gave his testimony – simple, straightforward, and honest. Understandably he had no comprehension of how Luke accomplished the feats that he did. But the young shopkeeper let neither his friendship with Luke, nor his amazement of Luke's actions, influence his recitation.

Next to rise and speak was Predi Wiseus, a heavy-set farmer whose long bushy sideburns seemed to compensate for his receding hairline. Though his tone of voice left no doubt of his distrust of the newcomers, his description of the events at the fire closely paralleled Jaco's. Surprisingly, there were no interruptions by Theda or anyone else in the room during either of the accountings.

"Mara, we be ready to hear yer words now." Efam focused his attention on the young libelee.

The fiery-haired bride's head jerked up at her name, and she glanced back quickly at her husband. (I was hoping you'd go before me.)

(Ladies first.) Luke scooted his chair over to give her room to stand. (You'll do fine,) he added, smiling encouragingly.

"Thank you, Efam." Mara scanned the assemblage's mixture of expressions – some accusatory, some suspicious; a few fearful, a few supportive. All were expectant, eager to hear the defendant's explanation. "First, I want to apologize for the fright I've given everyone. I really have no plausible excuse for what I did, and I don't deny that I should have handled the situation differently."

Mara took a steadying breath before continuing, allowing herself to bask in Luke's supportive warmth. She noticed for the first time that none of the supposedly traumatized youngsters were present in the pub. "Please believe me when I say that I would never harm a child," she intoned. "I had no experience being around young children before coming here, and I found myself a bit ... overwhelmed ... by their exuberance. Which, trust me, is a hard thing for me to admit to." Mara ignored the grumbles of derision that she would dare ask for trust in any way, shape, or form. "So, when Thal and his friend continued to taunt Rasa, despite my admonitions, I lost my composure and reacted without thinking."

"Reacted how, Mara?" questioned Vicar Serole.

"I lifted him up in the air and ... and told him I was going to hold him there until he agreed to behave."

"Ye held him with yer hands?" Healer Jobilis asked.

"No, I didn't touch him."

Rumblings of denunciation quickly echoed through the room, but the medical practitioner held up a hand to forestall the comments. "And the rest o' the children?"

"I did nothing to them, I assure you, except perhaps startle them. I didn't sense that they were frightened of me."

"And what happened next, Mara?" the healer continued, his slate gray eyes studying Mara's profile with clinical objectivity.

"Madame Nondes and Mistress Jueldent appeared in the doorway and began screaming. I immediately lowered Thal to the ground. I backed away, and very shortly other villagers arrived."

"Ye offered no resistance to them?" Efam interjected.

"No."

"Mara ..." The vicar folded his hands together in a calming gesture. "Can ye tell us how ye were able to raise up Thal? Or at the Hall, how ye swept the snow onto the flames?"

Biting her bottom lip, Mara paused a moment in thought. "For that explanation, I will defer to my husband."

"Me?" Luke squeaked, sitting up suddenly. He stared wide-eyed at Mara as she settled next to him, motioning for him to keep his voice down. "I was going to follow your lead on explaining our powers," he whispered.

(You know this society believes the man is head of the family,) she sent, her smug tone evident even through her projected thoughts. (Besides, I figured you would welcome the chance to hone your negotiation skills before reaching Lorrd.) She nudged him out of his chair. (Now go negotiate our way out of a lynching.)

The council evidently had no objection to Luke's speaking on his wife's behalf, inviting him to take the floor.

"Luke," Efam began, "ye've heard the tellins' o' Jaco Modesa and Predi Wiseus o' what ye did at the Fellowship Hall. Do ye take issue with any part o' their tales?"

"No, sir. They gave accurate accounts."

"Have ye anythin' to add?"

Luke let himself relax, drawing on the tranquility he'd learned from Master Yoda's example. "I believed that I was best able to retrieve the children from the rafters. If a similar situation arose again, I would not hesitate to act in the same manner."

The council members nodded in understanding, impressed by the young man's forthright nature.

It was the vicar who voiced the inquiry that everyone in the room was awaiting an answer to. "Will ye now see fit to shed light on what manner o' magic the both of ye used to carry out these peculiar acts?"

Luke glanced briefly at Mara before turning his attention to their examiners. "We don't really use the word 'magic.' But yes, you do deserve an explanation." Luke drew a steadying breath. Contrary to what he'd just said to Mara, he'd been contemplating ever since leaving the Fellowship Hall of how much they'd now be compelled to reveal about the Force, and how much truth to impart about the galaxy in general.

"Where we come from," the Jedi finally began, "there are a few individuals, like Mara and me, who have ... powers ... that allow them to move objects with their minds."

"So there's more witches in yer Corey-sant?" a voice in the crowd called out.

"We are not witches," Mara bit out, rising to her feet in indignation before Luke laid a hand on her shoulder. She bristled at his reprimand, but sat back down in sullen silence.

"Mara and I are ..." Luke hesitated; he was a Jedi, but Mara ... "We are Force-users. The power we have is known as the Force. How this power works and why we are endowed with it would be hard to explain; I don't understand much of the concept myself. The only reason we came to your village was to seek help in repairing our craft, and we are very sorry for the confusion and panic that our special abilities have caused. We meant no harm to anyone, I assure you. We are grateful for the friendships we have forged here, and hope those friendships haven't been tarnished too badly now." Pausing in his oration, Luke let his gaze fall upon the faces of Jaco and Aerie, Merta, Hiley, and others. Their attentive expressions were guarded, with curiosity lighting their eyes instead of accusations of deception and betrayal. The Jedi Knight breathed a silent sigh of relief; his greatest dread had been that those he and Mara had befriended would now view them with fear and revulsion.

The Jedi sent a cautious glance at the village's clergyman before continuing. "Mara and I are grateful for the opportunity we were given to be married here in Zembuhl. I beg everyone not to ostracize your good vicar for bonding us yesterday. While we cannot predict the outcome of your crops this year, know that we would never do anything to bring disrespect to your church or your beliefs."

Luke turned his attention to the numerous men and women in the pub whose auras continued to emanate animosity and denunciation. These were the ones he needed to appease, he thought, though battling a lifetime of superstition could be beyond the capabilities of even a seasoned Jedi Master. "I know that some of you are frightened and feel that we should be punished. While we concede that we should in some way be held accountable for not disclosing our abilities, you should know that we will defend ourselves if necessary."

Efam nodded at Luke's proclamation, and conferred briefly with his companions. "Before we make a decision, we have a wee bit o' questions fer ye."

"Of course," Luke agreed.

"Have ye used yer ... special powers ... at any other time since ye came here?"

"No, sir," the younger man replied hastily. And just as hastily, he began filtering though his memories for exceptions to his answer. He compressed his lips worriedly as a repudiative shout came from the back of the room.

"He musta!" a grizzled villager decried. "Nobody coulda made o'er a hunnard bulls-eyes in a row without usin' magic." The man gestured at the board hanging nearby.

"I did not use any magic when throwing tackdarts," Luke returned. "I just have good aim."

"Then why could ye not hit a single animal when huntin'?"

"I ... well ... the truth is ..." As Luke hesitated, Mara's silent voice sent welcome counsel.

(Go on, tell them. You have nothing to be ashamed of.)

The Jedi favored his wife with a grateful smile, then turned to his accuser. "I didn't kill any animals because I didn't want to. I don't like harming any living creature, and I won't kill, unless it is absolutely necessary. I know you were hunting for food, not sport, but there seemed to be enough game being brought in that I didn't have to contribute."

"We canno' fault the lad fer bein' too soft," Hiley defended. "And I ne'er heard tell of a sorcerer that did'na delight in torturin' helpless animals."

Even Luke and Mara's most vocal indicters couldn't disagree with the toolcrafter's words.

"I did, though, use my powers a little the night of the tackdart contest." Luke's apologetic voice breached the crowd's murmurs, causing Mara frown at him sharply. "To make myself feel better after drinking too much ale."

An uproar of laughter ensued, which took as much pounding of Efam's makeshift gavel to quell as did the earlier outbursts of dissent.

Efam's wife, who had been silently watching the proceedings up to this point, stood slowly. "Luke has answered yer query, but we've not heard from Mara." Filia stared at the younger woman with a look of morbid curiosity. "Mara, have ye used yer magic before today?"

The new bride groaned inwardly; she'd been hoping everyone would be satisfied with Luke's story and not think to ask about her. "Yes, I did. Once." She felt Luke's eyes on her, but didn't acknowledge him. She had failed to mention this tidbit to him. "When I was ice-gliding with Aerie, she collided with a child. I held her up so she wouldn't fall."

"I did'na think ye ... oh ..." Aerie's voice trailed off as she recalled the sensation she'd felt that night, of being held by invisible arms.

"Ye used yer magic on me wife?" Jaco stood, protectively slipping an arm around his wife's slim shoulders.

"I didn't want her to be hurt," Mara said evenly, "especially in her condition."

Though the gaze of the former assassin appeared fixated on the Modesas, her thoughts were nearly a standard year in the past. She had been sent undercover to a seedy tapcafe on Rantal V, following the trail of a suspected Imperial traitor. Her prey had just risen from his collaborative meeting with a Rebel go-between when a commotion erupted between Mara's seat and the defector's escape route. Two drunken patrons had been harassing their waitress all evening, and had chosen that moment to push the poor girl in the Emperor's Hand's direction. Seeing the conspirator disappearing out the tavern's side door, Mara had reached out to shove the waitress out of her way, but halted as she caught sight of the girl clutching her stomach protectively. The wench was pregnant! Going against all the instincts ingrained in her, Mara paused to cushion the girl's fall with the Force, then whirled and cleanly disposed of the inebriated customers with her hold-out blaster. It had taken her an extra day to once more track down the traitorous officer, a lapse which allowed the man to divulge yet more Imperial secrets to the enemy. A lapse which the Emperor did not let go unpunished.

"Thank you," Jaco said softly, shaking Mara from her reverie.

Mara had regretted taking the precious moments to help the waitress that day. Now, she regretted every single day of her servitude to Palpatine. Watching Aerie and Jaco clutching each other, and feeling her own husband's hand squeezing her shoulder, Mara knew she would never regret even a moment of her future.

"Does anyone else have any questions fer the Skywalkers?" Efam inquired, looking out over the suprisingly subdued assembly. "If not, then I have one." The burly man pointed with his cudgel at the cylinder hanging openly from Luke's belt. "Jaco and Predi both described what ye did with that contraption. Can ye tell us what it be?"

The young Jedi fingered the cool metal of his lightsaber. Even this antiquated instrument would be impossible to explain in a technology-devoid society.

"It's a tool," Luke began guardedly, "for cutting. Like ..." _Like what?__ A laser, a blowtorch, a Dithorian firebeam? _These people wouldn't comprehend any of those comparisons. "It cuts through objects like a flame burns through wood. It ... uh ..."

(Stop while you're ahead, Farmboy) was Mara's silent advice. (Just tell them it's magic and be done with it.)

Luke grimaced over his shoulder at his wife. (You're a lot of help.)

"Can ye kindle it fer us?" Hiley asked. "I'd like to see it close up fer meself."

Reluctantly Luke detached his weapon and held it out in front of him. Mentally kicking himself for not keeping it hidden and thinking of a different way to disperse the smoke at the Hall, he thumbed the activation switch on. Gasps of astonishment filled the pub as the weapon's viridescent blade appeared in thin air, its steady hum reverberating lowly.

Hiley reached out cautiously toward the spellbinding light. "Be it hot?"

Luke jerked his outstretched arm back, simultaneously disengaging the dangerous shaft. "Yes!" he cried. "You can't touch it; it would burn your finger."

The toolcrafter laughed. "Lad, I been singed more times than ye can count."

"Sorry," Luke muttered, clipping the hilt back to his belt. "I guess I overreacted."

Efam stood and banged his club on the wooden table. "If no one has more to say, we'll be makin' our decision then." He gestured to his companions, and the trio adjourned to a rear room of the pub.

Luke slumped back into his seat, tuning out the mixture of conversations that soon filled the room. He closed his eyes wearily, but any hoped-for meditation proved elusive. Keeping his eyes shut, he smiled as he felt Mara's head nestle against his shoulder, her hand slipping comfortably into his.

(Luke, I'm sor—)

(Don't.) The tow-headed bridegroom shifted just enough to brush his bride's forehead with his lips. (Don't apologize, love. Our personalities, and our powers, define us. It's unreasonable for us to expect each other, or ourselves, to always act prudently. Force knows I make plenty of mistakes.) Opening his eyes, he raised Mara's chin with a finger. (Marrying you is not one of them.)

Mara raised one hand and stroked her life mate's cheek. (I love you, Luke,) she sent. (I love you with every breath I take.) As Luke lowered his head for a soft kiss, Mara drank in his masculine scent, now tinged with the smoky essence of the fire. They reluctantly pulled apart at the sound of a throat being cleared.

"The council be comin' back," Hiley announced without preamble.

The newlyweds straightened in their chairs, hands still clasped tightly, and awaited their decreed fate.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks again to all who sent in replies. I won't make you wait any longer. The verdict is in…**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Efam banged his cudgel once more, restoring order to the crowded barroom. "Vicar Serole, Healer Jobilis and me gave this matter a heap o' thought." He faced the small table where the Skywalkers sat in silence. "Luke an' Mara, we don'na believe ye did anythin' to hurt us. Thal Ulhas was checked out by the healer here before this meetin' started, and the lad be as fit and feisty as he e'er was. Neither o' ye contributed to the startin' o' the fire, and ye did more than most in puttin' it out, and savin' the lasses and lad what was trapped."

The newlyweds' optimistic sighs of relief were cut short as Efam continued, a look of distress filling his features.

"But, we have a responsibility to all the folks o' Zembuhl, and a good deal of 'em have in their heads that ye have witchery in yer blood and can't be trusted. So's to make people not fear leavin' the safety of their homes, we be askin' ye to leave Zembuhl this very day, and to promise ne'er to set foot in our village again."

The pub owner gave one last rap on his table, then wearily dropped back into his straight-backed chair.

Luke stood uncertainly, not sure whether he and Mara were supposed to answer or not. Finally, he simply nodded in acknowledgement to the three council members, all of them wearing countenances of sadness and regret.

Hiley was the first to approach the sentenced defendants. "Aye, 'tis a sad day fer Zembuhl, fer sure. I don't know what gets into folks, condemnin' ye just fer bein' different." He gave Luke a pat on the back in sympathy. "I'll go git that bar we fashioned fer ye, lad."

"I appreciate it, Hiley," Luke replied, before turning around to receive a handshake from Jaco.

"I'm sorry 'bout how things turned out," the dark-haired young man apologized. "I'd come to think o' ye as a chum, and I'll continue to hold ye in that regard."

"That means a lot, my friend," Luke replied with a wistful smile.

Aerie Modesa wasn't nearly as reserved as her husband in bidding her newfound friend farewell. "Oh, Mara, I'm gonna miss ye dreadfully."

Clearly ill at ease, Mara awkwardly returned the flaxen-haired girl's earnest hug. "I'll miss you too, Aerie. But you knew we were already planning to leave today."

"But I was hopin' ye'd be able to come visit sometime, 'specially after me baby is born." Aerie paused, brushing a hand against her slightly swollen abdomen and glancing at Luke. "Or ... babies. Luke," she caught the Jedi's attention, "did ye mean what ye said, 'bout me havin' twins? Did ye use yer magic to tell?"

"Well, Aerie, I think you will," he hedged. "I can't guarantee it, but, uh, yes, that's what my ... magic ... tells me."

"And they'll both be girls?"

"No, I don't know about that." Luke gave her a warm smile. "But we wish you all the best of luck, whether you have sons or daughters."

"And we're sorry we won't be able to come back to see you again," Mara added. "You can't imagine how much your friendship has meant to me." _Especially since you're my first real_ _friend,_ she thought to herself. _Besides Luke, that is._

For the next half hour, Luke and Mara continued their farewells with the friends they had made during their short-lived sojourn. Efam and Vicar Serole apologized profusely for the decision they'd felt forced to make, Filia insisted she didn't consider the pair to be demons of the black arts, while Merta forced back tears as she hurried away to pack some provisions for the 'poor dears.' As the two Force-users made their way out of the pub, Mara continually tugged on Luke's arm to curtail his stopping to try to appease all the villagers still imbued with superstitious fear.

Outside the Lucky Red Bone, the ostracized visitors received an entirely different type of greeting.

"Mara, Mara!"

The former assassin's forward progress was halted when a tiny pair of arms locked around her legs.

"Are ye okay, Mara?" cried Rasa, switching her death grip to Mara's neck when the redhead picked her up.

"I'm fine, sweetheart."

Kavan stepped forward to speak on behalf of the group of children huddled just around the corner of the building. "We wanted to know what was goin' on, but they wouldna' let us inside." On the lookout for any adults who would force them to disperse, the boy cast a furtive glance at the pub's entryway. "We was worried 'bout ye."

"We're all right." Luke knelt down on one knee and gave the three children he'd rescued a reassuring hug. "But we have to leave the village this afternoon."

"We want ye to stay," whined Tenna, her large brown eyes brimming with moisture.

"Aye, we don'na want ye to leave 'cause o' us."

Mara looked over Rasa's head to stare at the source of the young masculine voice.

"'Specially cause o' me," continued a penitent-looking Thal Ulhas. "I'm sorry fer gettin' ye riled at the school."

"I think Rasa is the one you should be apologizing to, Thal." Mara arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"He did already," the little girl in Mara's arms said. "Thal promised to ne'er pick on me again."

"Or anyone else," the older boy vowed, before Mara had a chance to voice the obvious question. "Hmm ... Madam Skywalker, ye know how ye raised me up?"

"Yes," Mara said slowly, not sure where the question was leading.

"Do ye think ye could do it again?"

Luke fought hard to keep from laughing aloud, and didn't dare to look his wife's direction.

"I don't think your parents would appreciate that, Thal."

"They wouldna' find out." Thal's face was a vision of solemn sincerity. "Ye could do it real quick, back here in the alley."

"Raise me up, too," Rasa squeaked. "I wanna float in the air." She pointed a chubby finger at the three children still hanging onto Luke's coattails. "They gotta float at the Hall. We been good. No fair that we didna' get to float."

"Aye, lift me, too," another voice chimed in.

"And me."

"I wanna too."

"Please."

"Can ye lift all of us at once?"

(By the Force, Skywalker, we've created an army of whining monsters.) Mara's silent voice had a hint of amusement in it.

Luke straightened up, shaking his head at the pleading horde. "Children, your parents would have our hides if we did that again."

"But we wouldna' tell them," a young freckled-faced boy protested.

Luke pursed his lips in thought and raised his eyes to meet Mara's. "How about you return to the inn with us?" he said, directing his attention once more to the children. "And perhaps, if all of you are good ..."

"We'll be good," the youngsters promised in unison, heads nodding in excited anticipation.

Mara gave her husband an incredulous look. "Surely you're not considering—"

"C'mon, kids." The Jedi pointedly ignored his wife. "Everyone stay close and keep quiet."

(Luke Skywalker, you're crazy!) The redhead reached out to grab at his arm, but Luke was too quick.

(I've been called crazy before; several times by you, in fact,) he replied to her mental admonition. (Mara, the way I see it, there's a chance that by the time these children are adults, someone else from the outside galaxy may stumble upon this planet.) He paused in his silent oration, a pleading look for understanding in his gaze to her. (Shouldn't we encourage their willingness to accept beings that are different?)

(Feeding them a discourse on acceptance is lightyears different than practicing your witchcraft on them.) Mara stretched out with the Force, checking for any hostile parents ahead. (Sneaking them back to our room is going to cause fireworks enough.) She shook her head to herself in reluctant resignation. (I can't believe the things I let you talk me into.)

(Don't worry. Everything will be fine.) Luke smiled in assurance while simultaneously flicking a stone in the opposite direction to distract an approaching passerby. (Consider this a practice session of your skills of stealth.)

(I don't need practice. I need a husband with common sense.)

Luke winked at her over his shoulder. (Too bad you're stuck with me.)

Mara's only answer was a frustrated glare at the back of his head.

The little procession covertly wound its way through the snow-covered back streets, the entire group ducking in unison when a suspicious villager glanced their way. A chorus of hushes rose as the back gate behind the inn creaked loudly on its hinges.

As soon as Luke led the way into the kitchen, he was met by a very startled landlady.

"Land's sakes, Luke!" Merta paused in the middle of filling a large burlap sack, her hand poised in midair clutching a loaf of bread. "Where ye be takin' these young'uns?"

"They wanted to see our room before we left," Luke murmured, pushing the inner door open a crack and peering into the dining room. "Is anyone else here?"

"Rosella and Gerd be in their room, packin'." Merta's head swiveled back to where Thal brought up the rear of the queue of children, followed by a tiptoeing Mara still carrying Rasa.

"Ye're not thinkin' o' kidnappin' these children, are ye?" The plump innkeeper's hesitant voice seemed to be only half joking.

"They begged us to show them something," Mara whispered, "and Luke is a big pushover. I shudder to think how spoiled our own children will be."

"Aye, he is a softie," Merta conceded. She grinned as the last of the troupe disappeared into the dining room. "Sure and 'tis gonna be quiet round here when those two leave," she muttered to herself.

The furtive little parade soon filed into the modest attic chamber.

"Everybody on the bed," Luke instructed, and the dozen youngsters scrambled into place, the older ones holding their younger peers on their laps.

"Are ye gonna lift the whole bed?" Kavan asked Luke eagerly.

"Don't tempt him," Mara interjected dryly.

A little girl with a high-pitched voice spoke up. "Now can we float?"

"Can I be first?" another child asked.

"No, me!" another countered.

A dozen hands shot into the air, all vying for the privilege of being the first recipient of the hoped-for magical ride.

"I never actually said anyone was going floating," Luke teased, a twinkle in his eye.

A dozen crestfallen faces stared back at him.

"But, I guess, as long as we're here ..."

Loud yelps of joy echoed in the room, accompanied by waving hands raised once more.

"Shhhh!" Luke and Mara cautioned simultaneously.

"No one will be doing anything if you don't stay quiet," Luke added. "Now, then ..." The Jedi paced back and forth, seemingly deep in thought. "I think the first should be ... Rasa."

With his last words, Luke raised his hands and the little girl rose from her seat and glided toward his outstretched arms.

"Yip—" Rasa began to squeal.

"Shhhh!" everyone else rebuked her.

Soon the thoroughly thrilled children were each taking a turn gliding through the air. Mara joined in the clandestine merriment, her attempts at feigning disapproval quickly crumbling under the avalanche of exuberance.

"I've married a lunatic," Mara commented with a snort, just loud enough that Luke could hear. She sent Almie drifting back to the bed on a current of air. "We are going to be in so much trouble."

"We're already in trouble." Luke beckoned Tenna toward him effortlessly. "What are they gonna do, banish us twice?" He spared a sideways glance at his wife. "Lighten up, Mara. Didn't you ever dream of flying as a child?"

"Flying my own ship, maybe," she admitted grudgingly. (First you let us blast asteroids, and now this,) Mara continued silently. (What's next, Skywalker? Buzzing Mon Mothma's office in X-wings?)

(You must be a bad influence on me,) Luke returned with a grin.

She gave him an assuming glance. "You got in trouble a lot as a boy, didn't you, pulling daredevil stunts?"

Luke shrugged. "Constantly." He turned his attention back to his audience. "All right, children. Everyone's had their turn, and all of you look like you enjoyed yourselves."

Every young head in the room, whether topped by ribbons, curls, or contrary cowlicks, nodded vigorously in agreement.

"And none of you were scared, right?"

"I weren't scared," Rasa declared from her perch on Mara's lap.

"Me neither," another youngster avowed.

"None of us were scared," Kavan spoke for the rest of the group.

"Good. Now, before you leave, I'd like to talk to you for just a few minutes, about something important." As all the children settled down on the big bed, Luke straddled the back of a chair and addressed the group. "Mara and I are glad that you children aren't afraid of us. Someday, maybe not until you grow up or maybe sooner, other strangers like us might come to your village. There could even be visitors that look a lot different than us."

"Look different how?" Thal asked.

"Well ..." Luke shot a glance at Mara, but she didn't feel inclined to help him out.

(This is your show, farmboy.)

"Well, they could have different color skin, or they could have four arms, or three eyes, or ..." Luke was interrupted by a burst of laughter.

"Aww, that's silly."

"Nobody kin have three eyes."

"You're pullin' our leg."

Luke smiled at the evidence of their naïve, sheltered life. "I don't know what kind of visitors might come, and you should always be careful of new people. There could even be people from Zembuhl or one of the other villages who can do things that seem like sorcery. But I want you to remember that just because a person looks different, or talks different, or can do strange things, doesn't mean he or she is a bad person."

"We know that," Tenna spoke up. "You do peculiar stuff, and you're not bad."

"Thanks, Tenna," Luke said with a grin. "We hope all of you will teach your own children, and your children's children, to feel the same way."

"We will," the youngsters promised in unison.

A low rap sounded at the door, and Luke held up a hand for quiet. "Yes?" He glanced at Mara, who set Rasa on the bed and crossed to the door.

"Luke? Mara?" Merta's low voice drifted through the bedchamber door, and her anxious face peered into the room when Mara opened the door. "There be a passel o' nervous parents searchin' fer their young'uns. Some of them be headin' toward the inn."

"We can go out the back door," Kavan volunteered, scrambling off the bed. "We'll run fast, 'fore they get here."

Mara looked at Luke over the boy's head. (I knew this was too risky,) she grumbled silently.

Luke shook his head in disagreement, then motioned for the children. "Time to say goodbye, everyone."

The youngsters crowded close, each one giving the Force-users an enthusiastic hug.

"This was the bestest day of me life," Rasa squeaked, her arms around Mara's neck.

"Mine, too," Thal admitted, standing behind the little girl. "Madam Skywalker, I really am sorry fer the trouble ye got into. I wish ye wasn't leavin'."

Merta's eyes were wide as saucers as Thal went on to gave Mara a tearful goodbye hug. "Ye've used yer magic to replace the lad with a changeling," she muttered, staring as the normally headstrong child hurriedly followed his companions down the narrow staircase.

Mara started to refute, then paused in thought. "I guess, in a way, we did." She gave her landlady a rare smile. "Some things can't be explained any other way."

"I'll go see that they be gettin' out unnoticed, and head off any parents." Merta shook her head as she turn to leave. "Sure and I don't wanna know what ye were doin' with those children."

"Thanks, Merta," Luke said. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When they were finally alone in their room, the newlyweds wasted little time packing the last of their possessions and donning their familiar orange flightsuits. Picking up his Alliance-issued backpack, Luke took one last look around the cozy bedchamber.

"I'm going to miss this place," he murmured wistfully. "Our lives were changed here."

"Yes, but this room, this village, this planet – they're not our future," Mara reminded him. "Our future is out there, among the stars." She smiled as she nodded toward the bright blue sky outside the window. "And the future is waiting for us to catch up. C'mon, flyboy." Mara took her husband's arm as they withdrew through the doorway. "We have a rendezvous with destiny."

―――――

"There be a bag o' food fer ye." Merta pointed to a bulging rucksack as the newlyweds entered her kitchen. "Are ye sure ye don't want more warm clothes? Or at least the coats ye been usin'?"

"No, we'll be fine, Merta," Luke assured her. "You've been too generous as it is."

"But ye shouldna' given me all yer dekas. Ye worked off yer keep more than enough."

"Merta, we could never begin to repay all you've done for us." Mara set her pack down and gave the older woman a heartfelt hug. "We'll never forget you."

"Aye, and I'll never forget the two o' ye." Merta swiped at her tear-filled eyes as she received Luke's embrace also. "And fer sure no one will ever forget this year's Winter Festival."

"That we can believe," he returned. "Not exactly the lasting impression we wanted to leave, though."

"Folks got their feathers ruffled, but they'll get over it. 'Specially if there be a decent harvest."

"We can't promise that," Mara noted, turning as the sound of the back door creaking broke into the conversation.

Hiley wiped the snow from his worn boots, then handed Luke a long metal object. "Here be yer rod, Luke. Thought I'd save ye the trouble o' comin' over to get it." He looked the travelers over in amusement after receiving Luke's thanks. "This must be the get-up I heard 'bout that ye had on when ye came. That so's ye can spot each other if ye get lost in the snow?"

"I couldna' talk 'em into keepin' the coats I give 'em," Merta interjected.

"We've got plenty to carry already," Luke said, glancing at the assortment of baggage that surrounded them. "We are taking you up on the gloves and caps and extra blankets. We'll be plenty warm."

"I told ye we'd be glad to lend ye a pair o' drobbins," Hiley reminded him.

"But we'd not have a way to get them back to you," Mara pointed out.

"Some of us could ride along with ye," the metalcrafter responded. "I'd like to see that boat o' yers, and find out where that contraption goes on it." He gestured toward the shaft that Luke was carefully stowing in his gear.

"Oh, huh, we really can walk," Mara stammered, grasping for a plausible excuse.

"We're still on our honeymoon, you know," Luke elaborated with a wink, eliciting a round of laughter from their friends.

"These young folks don't need the likes o' ye taggin' along, Hiley Lenzel," Merta bantered.

"Aye, that's true enough." Hiley pulled Luke out of earshot as Merta began describing to Mara what delectable foods she was sending with them. "From what happened today, looks like ye need a few more stabs at gettin' that advice we gave ye at the gamin' booths to take hold," the older man whispered conspiratorially.

"Hmmm." Luke glanced at the fiery redhead, smiling as he remembered the men's good-natured recommendation on how to tame a strong-willed woman. "I don't know if that tip would ever work in our case, but I sure am enjoying making the effort."

"Thatta boy!" Hiley slapped his young friend on the back with a hearty chuckle. "Ye can ne'er go wrong takin' that path, lad." He helped Luke hoist his bulky survival pack onto his back. "Take care, son. I wish ye both good fortune and a long life together."

"Thanks, Hiley, and you too, Merta," Luke acknowledged both of the congenial villagers. He slung the heavy rucksack of food over his shoulder as Mara adjusted the weight of her own bundle. "I don't know what we would have done without the both of you."

"I be thinkin' you woulda managed somehow," Hiley returned. "I'll walk ye to the edge of the village."

"That's not necessary," Mara said, but the toolcrafter brushed off her objections. Merta also insisted on seeing her guests off, and the quartet headed for the outskirts of Zembuhl.

"Uh, lad?" Hiley caught Luke's attention as the orange-clad younger man turned in an easterly direction. "The Nagox Sea be that way." He gestured to the north. "Ain't that where yer boat be?"

"Oh, right." He stole a glance at Mara. "Got turned around for a moment."

"Ye sure ye don'na want me to come with ye, at least fer a piece?" Hiley raised a gray-streaked eyebrow questioningly.

"No, we'll be fine, really." Luke reached out and took his bride's hand. "But we do need to get moving, to get as far as we can before dark."

After one last round of farewells, including waves to the scattered people in the distance, the two Force-users made their way into surrounding woods.

―――――

"And so the saviors of Zembuhl have been officially run out of town," Luke pronounced solemnly, his flight boots sloshing along through the melting snow.

"Can't be a hero everyday, Jedi," Mara returned dryly as she picked her way along the rutted path. "You do realize this is not the way back to the ship."

"We'll just circle around as soon as we're completely out of sight," Luke replied. "No use making anyone even more suspicious of us."

"I don't think we can possibly act more suspicious than we already have. And if you were so worried about that, you wouldn't have been doing circus tricks with half the children of the village. You know they're going to eventually babble about that."

"I'm sure they will," Luke said, calmly ignoring her chiding. "And the adults will see that the kids are perfectly healthy, with no ill effects from having contact with us witches. Mara, we had a moral obligation to at least make an attempt to erase these people's superstitious fear of the unknown." He gave her an amused grin as he stepped over a fallen log. "Besides, I wasn't the one who first presented the school lesson 'How to Levitate a Child.'

"Humph. If they'd behaved half as well this morning as they did in our room ... Well, you weren't there. You don't know how insubordinate some of them were getting."

"Insubordinate? Mara, they're children. You have to learn how to entertain them."

"You should know, since you still act like one," she groused defensively. "Solo knows what he's talking about, calling you 'kid.'"

Luke shot her a pained look. "I've already admitted I made mistakes here. I'll probably always make mistakes. I feel like I'm groping my way blind along the path a Jedi should follow. I don't have the discipline that you do." He squeezed her hand briefly, but kept his eyes focused on the rugged terrain they were traversing. "I keep hoping, as I get older and more experienced, that ..." Luke gave a weary sigh as his words trailed off. "I can just picture Master Yoda shaking his head in disappointment. I'll never be as wise or dignified as him."

Mara stopped suddenly, jerking Luke to a halt also. "Didn't you tell me Yoda pretended to be someone else when you first met him?"

A little chuckle escaped Luke as he thought back to his first landing on Dagobah. "Yeah, he rummaged through all my gear, and he and Artoo had a tugging match over a lamp."

"That doesn't sound like dignified behavior to me."

"Well ... I guess he did have kind of a strange sense of humor at that."

"Like someone else I know." Mara gave her husband a soft peck on the cheek. "Luke, you're going to make a wonderful Jedi Master someday. Gaining more knowledge and experience in the ways of the Force is an admirable goal, but don't ever change your personality. I love you just the way you are."

"Same here, about you." Luke returned her kiss, in a more intimate manner, then looked ahead at the forested hillside. "As much as I'd like to take a break right here," he gave her a wistful little wink, "I think we'd better cover as much ground as we can before dark."

"Hmm, too bad. But maybe we can find some big cozy tree to bed down under for the night." She gave an embarrassed laugh as her stomach unexpectedly growled. "And perhaps we can lighten that pack of food a bit before too long."

"Yeah, we did miss lunch, didn't we?" Luke shifted his heavy load slightly and surveyed the slushy pathway they were taking. "All right, let's walk until we find a suitable dining location, then check out what kind of feast Merta packed for us."

―――――

Less than an hour later, the newlyweds were finishing their late lunch, or early dinner, as Mara was sure it would be. Luke had been setting a steady pace, and the prospects of halting for another meal seemed slim. The bright afternoon sun had melted most of the surrounding snow, leaving only drifts of white in the sheltered shadows of the larger trees.

Sitting on a fallen trunk and brushing crumbs from her hands, Mara's head jerked up sharply as a strange howling sound pierced the stillness. She stood and took a few steps forward, her fingers trailing against the reassuring weight of her lightsaber.

"Mara?" Even as he spoke, Luke was also reaching out with the Force.

Another low growl caught Mara's attention, and she shifted her stance in readiness. "Wild animals?" she queried aloud.

"Maybe, but there's people too. At least two, maybe three, spread out."

"Do you think some of the villagers followed us?" She was sweeping her gaze around the area, but it was impossible to see more than a few dozen meters through the dense thicket of trees.

"I doubt it," Luke murmured from his squatting position as he stuffed their supplies into their packs. "Just hunters, I'd say. I recognize the baying of their sharrets."

"Sharrets?"

"Tracking animals. Sort of like wor'hounds, except they have dense fur and long snouts with broad nostrils. We used them for trailing the scent of rishhares yesterday."

"Surely they can see we're not game, with these glowing orange flightsuits you insisted we wear." Mara surveyed beyond the perimeter of their campsite as best she could, her unlit lightsaber now held firmly in her grasp.

"Told you they'd be practical," Luke replied behind her, not looking up as he shoved the last package of food into the rucksack. "Nevertheless, you keep an eye out. I'm almost finished— Aarghh!"

* * *

**I never promised there wouldn't be any more cliffhangers, did I? (I'll try to post again tomorrow.)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for all the replies. And for that snarky know-it-all song, GreatOne! Welcome back, Jedi-Princess, and sorry about your hamster. :( **

**If anyone doesn't like the sight of blood ― er, I guess that should be a description of the sight of blood ― turn your head now.**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Luke had felt the danger only moments before hearing the deadly whistle. His lightening-fast reflexes sent him jerking upright, but he wasn't quick enough to completely avoid the arrow that flew his way.

"Luke!" Mara cried in alarm, sensing him stagger in pain behind her. She spun around to see him clutching his leg, his lightsaber already ignited with his free hand.

"Get down!" he shouted, waving his blade slowly as he scanned their surroundings.

"Speak for yourself," Mara bit out, moving to defend her injured husband, her own azure blade poised to fend off further attacks.

Another arrow whistled out from the trees, and Mara easily batted it aside.

"Who's there?" she growled loudly, knowing this was no hunting accident. "Show yourselves!"

Luke stood back to back with Mara, doing his best to ignore the burning pain in his thigh. "What do you want?" He put as much force into his voice as he could, directing his shout toward the direction the last arrow had come from.

A nasty laugh echoed from the trees. "We want yer woman," a coarse voice snarled. "Move aside, whelp, so we don'na hafta hurt her too."

"Hate to disappoint you, Pruden," Luke returned, instantly recognizing the voice, "but you can't have her. I thought we made that ...," he paused as only a slight movement sent a jolt of agony through his leg, "... made that clear at the pub."

"Come out into the open, cowards!" Mara called, her eyes narrowing in anger. "Quit hiding behind the trees."

"So ye can swipe at us with yer magic sticks?" A loud guffaw of contempt came from the trees opposite to where Mara was facing, prompting her to swing around in readiness. "Do ye think we be fools?"

"Stand still, Mara," Luke ground out in a hoarse whisper. "I've got this direction."

"You're barely able to stay upright," Mara bit back. "Get down and let me handle this."

"They've got us surrounded," he argued. "You can't cover ... all sides at once." He easily intercepted a third arrow, this one aimed directly at his chest.

"So what do we do? Stand here till you collapse?"

"You keep 'em talking, while I think of a way ... out of this," he panted. "If they're talking, they'll be less likely ... to be shooting."

"What!" Her previously sarcastic tone turned to indignation. "You think I'm incapable of solving this dilemma?"

"Mara, please ..." Luke didn't have the time or energy to soothe her wounded ego.

Mara muttered a word of acquiescence, her concern for Luke overriding her natural tendency to refuse to take orders from anyone, including him. Swiveling around in a huff, she called out in a loud voice toward the probable location of the group's leader. "How can you possibly think you can have me, Odus Pruden? I'm married."

"And ye'll soon be widowed," came the scornful snicker.

"But I'm a witch," Mara choked out the distasteful moniker. "Aren't you afraid I'll ... I'll turn you all into rishhares or bog-toads?"

Pruden's answer came in the form of a fist-sized rock landing just shy of Mara's feet. "Let's see ye turn that into a bog-toad."

With a flicker of the Force, Mara sent the stone flying back toward its sender. "How 'bout a hawk-bat instead?"

―――――

Half listening to the poor excuse for a parley behind him, Luke studied their surroundings. "There's a ridge ... just ahead," he murmured over his shoulder. "We can climb ... up there, and be in a better ... position ... to defend ourselves."

Mara spared a glance at the small hillock he had spied. "You think you can make it that far?"

Luke took a deep breath to steady his voice. "Of course I can. I'll go first and watch our sides; you follow right behind me ... and cover the rear."

Snatching up his survival pack, Luke slowly edged his way forward. His lightsaber hummed as he waved it back and forth, slicing off the feathered end of the arrow protruding from his leg in the process. He hastened his steps as he both felt and heard Mara reach around to swat down another pair of projectiles, both on a course solely toward him.

Drawing on the Force for renewed strength, Luke scrambled up the sloped hillside as quickly as he could. He grunted in suppressed anguish as he put weight on his injured leg, the remaining shaft of the arrow still sticking out at a slanted angle. Mara was right on his heels, scurrying up nearly backwards as she continued her vigilance.

Once at the top, Luke sat down heavily, his labored breath betraying his distress. Mara knelt cautiously beside him, scanning the trees for any sign of their attackers. She could sense the presence of the three men, but they were staying hidden and didn't seem to be moving any closer.

"You okay?" Mara asked, not taking her eyes off the surrounding woods.

"I'll be all right," he returned, though his low voice did little to assure her. "I just need ... to get this arrow out."

"Are you bleeding?" she questioned, turning her head just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

"I don't think so. Maybe the wound ... has sealed ... around the shaft." He refused to acknowledge the sensation that his pants leg hidden under the flightsuit was soaked with blood.

"Then leave it in for right now. Can you stay conscious until I get back?"

"Of course I— Get back from where?" He eyed the determined stance of his wife. "Mara, what are you planning?"

"I'll sneak down the back of this ridge, go around and take care of these louts one by one, then come back and help you."

"What do you mean ... take care of them?" He sat up a little straighter, careful not to jar his leg.

"Eliminate them. What do you think I mean?" she growled.

He reached forward and gripped her arm. "Mara ... we're not going ... to kill them."

She turned around long enough for him to glimpse the dissenting glower on her face. "Luke, they tried to kill us." She glared pointedly at his wounded thigh. "That arrow was on a trajectory straight for your heart, and you know it. If you hadn't stood up fast enough ..." Mara shook her head and looked back out into the forest, not wanting to think of the possible consequences.

"They weren't trying to kill you," Luke countered quietly.

"No. They just want to capture me and keep me for their pet."

"Mara ..." He willed his voice to remain even. "We are the ones who swept into Zembuhl, encroaching on these people's lives. We humiliated the Prudens at the pub, and the only surprise here is that they waited this long to retaliate. But defending ourselves need not include killing anyone. We can't ... can't appoint ourselves judge, jury, and executioner, no matter what." Luke let go of her arm and leaned back with a wince. "If we'd been more alert ... A Jedi should never be caught off guard."

Mara did not bother to remind him that she was not a Jedi. Instead, she found herself thinking that for an Imperial assassin to be ambushed by a sneak attack was unpardonable. "Happy now?" she bit out, after grudgingly pulling out her blaster and switching it to 'stun.' Her tone softened as she saw the hurt look on Luke's face. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she murmured, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His strong returning grip reassured her that he'd be safe until her return. It wasn't until she was halfway down the slope that she realized she hadn't been thinking in past tense when labeling herself as an assassin.

―――――

Not so much as a twig snapped as Mara stole from tree to tree. From the direction of the voices earlier she knew the approximate location of which attacker she wanted to zero in on first, and she wasted no time heading that way. _Direct, no nonsense, no wasted movements. _Mara was in her element, and she felt exhilarated. Even the gaudily conspicuous flightsuit couldn't dampen her spirits. A slight smile came to her lips as she recalled once hunting down a renegade moff while dressed in a U'rasdi-original ballgown.

Mara was almost upon her target when a yapping ball of fur launched itself at her. She dropped the annoying animal with one shot, then stared up into the startled, pock-marked face of its owner – Odus Pruden. Before the man could get one word out, Mara leveled her blaster and triggered the blue rings of temporary slumber. _Effective, efficient, professional._ Wouldn't Luke be impressed?

Mara pulled up short, taking a deep breath. Sith, no, Luke wouldn't be impressed. He'd be dismayed. She was stalking a trio of uncouth woodsmen with the mindset of the Emperor's Hand. The same callous mindset she used when her blaster was always set to 'kill.' As Mara approached the next Pruden, she sent a tendril of the Force in Luke's direction. He felt safe, alert, and distracted by whatever he was doing as he sent back a terse '_I'm fine._' To her relief, he didn't seem to be following her thoughts or actions. With steely resolve, Mara Skywalker did her best to adopt a mental attitude befitting the wife of a Jedi. _Patient, tolerant, lenient._ Eli and Tors Pruden would hit the ground a little more gently ...

―――――

When she sprinted back up the hillside a short time later, Mara's breath caught in her throat at the sight of her husband. Luke had unfastened the front of his flightsuit, lifting the heavy fabric away from the truncated arrow shaft, and was gingerly ripping open his blood-soaked trouser leg. His lightsaber and an open medkit lay ready at his side.

"Luke!" Mara hurried forward, kneeling next to him on the soggy ground. "You told me you weren't bleeding."

The Jedi shrugged noncommittally. "It's not so bad." He grimaced as he examined the wound closely, swiping at a fresh spurt of blood with a piece of the discarded pants hem.

"Let me see." Mara peered closer, cautiously fingering the wooden shaft. A slight hiss escaped Luke's lips, and she looked up at his noticeably pale face.

"You can't just yank it out," he rasped. "The arrowhead has sharp barbs, and I think it's embedded in the bone."

"Give me some credit," she groused lightly. "I don't want your leg ripped apart any more than you do." Mara bit her lower lip in contemplation. "But we need to hurry. You can't afford to lose any more blood."

"Yeah." Luke leaned back on his elbows, his breathing low and steady. "I thought ... it would be better for you to remove the arrow, rather than me operating on myself."

Mara nodded in agreement. She propped his leg up on one of their packs that she'd retrieved, then reached for the medkit. After spraying the laceration with disinfectant, she carefully probed the flesh around the arrow with a surgical lancet. She could feel Luke shunting away the pain, and winced in sympathy. "I could use a hypo-spray to numb your leg," she offered, digging through the meager first aid supplies provided.

"No." Luke shook his head emphatically. "I'll need to be able to walk as soon as you're finished. The stun blasts will be wearing off before long."

Mara bit her tongue before blurting out that if she'd done things her way, they wouldn't have to worry about waking Prudens. She had to quit thinking along that path. Instead she turned her attention back to her amateur surgery. "You know, this is the first time I've ever done anything like this."

"I guess this is the first time I've been injured since I met you ... ow!" Luke squeezed his eyes shut briefly, then craned his neck to observe Mara's handiwork.

"Sorry," she murmured, taking a deep breath before continuing to dig at the buried arrowhead. "I don't mean just you," she went on. "I've never practiced first aid on anyone except myself."

"Never?" Luke recognized and appreciated Mara's effort to distract him.

"I had training on how to treat my own injuries, but as to others ..." She paused as she gauged whether she'd cut a large enough slit to withdraw the projectile without further damage to Luke's leg. "I didn't work with partners as a rule, and on the rare occasion that I did ... Well, if they were so incompetent as to get hurt, I figured that was their problem." She didn't look up from her work, not wanting to see the frown on her Jedi husband's face at her flippant remarks. "As to my targets, I made sure all injuries were fatal, of course."

"Hmmm ..." Luke gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold steady. "Maybe ... maybe I should tend to my leg ... myself ... Keepuna, Mara! Aren't you done yet?"

Mara smiled to herself at Luke's use of the mild Huttese oath. "I could be if you weren't bleeding so much. It's hard to see what I'm doing."

"Guess you could ... cauterize it with a lightsaber." The young Jedi concentrated on slowing his heart rate, and hopefully the blood pumping through his arteries.

"Do you want to lose another limb?" Mara grumbled in frustration as her hands continued to be covered in bright red liquid. She glanced toward the pack of clothes they'd brought. "I need to tear up some cloth for a tourniquet and to soak up this blood."

"Cut ... cut off my other pants leg."

Mara looked up at Luke's still features, grateful that he had finally settled into his Jedi calming mode. Working quickly, she slipped the outer flightsuit off his right leg and clipped the remaining leg off the already-ruined trousers. "Pulling your clothes off last night was more fun," she quipped, berating herself for not thinking of this on her own.

"Maybe it could be ... a nightly ritual," he answered quietly.

At last Mara was able to extricate the intrusive fragment, grinning as Luke waved off her offer of saving it as a souvenir. After administering another dose of antiseptic, she carefully covered the wound with a bacta patch, wrapping several layers of bandages around his thigh. "There, all done. Now you should go into a healing trance for a few hours."

"No time," Luke countered, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet with an audible grunt. He took a few tentative steps, limping noticeably.

"Hold on." Mara disappeared into the forest, then returned quickly. She held out a long stick, one end sheared off where it had split into two branches. "Returning the favor," she said, remembering the cane he'd fashioned for her.

Luke took the makeshift crutch, slipping the v-shaped end under his arm. "Perfect fit," he pronounced, smiling gratefully.

"I know your measurements," she returned with a shrug.

"Thanks, sweetheart. Thanks for the assist."

"You're welcome." She gave him a friendly wink, reaching out for both his survival pack and the rucksack of food. "But let's _not_ make this a habit."

"I can carry my own load, Mara," Luke objected, pulling the gear out of her grasp. "You already have two bundles."

"Nonsense. You're injured."

"I'm not an invalid." As he swung the packs onto his back, he looked around quickly, as if something important had just occurred to him. "Did you stun the sharrets?" he asked, frowning.

"Of course." Mara felt confused as to why she was suddenly sensing anxiety from him over something so trivial. "I didn't want those mongrels following us."

Vexation flooded out of Luke in tandem with a sigh of exasperation. "Stang it!"

"What? You wanted them tagging after us?" Mara bristled with annoyance at his inexplicable mood shift.

"You think it's better for them to sleep until their owners wake up? How do you think the Prudens found us so easily? Sharrets are excellent trackers, even through snow, and we left plenty of things behind at the inn for them to obtain our scent." Luke began making his way down the sloped embankment. "I think I can pretty well erase any tracks we might make in spots where the snow hasn't melted. But eradicating our scent is a whole other matter."

"Fine, I'll just go back and kill the beasts."

Even before Luke's hand once more grasped her arm, she knew by the scowl on his face that her solution did not meet with his approval.

"What do you want me to do?" she snapped. She could only take so much. Humiliation was mixing with a brewing anger, both at herself for not reasoning out the animals' significance, and at Luke, for his hardheaded attitude toward killing.

"Nothing," he muttered, releasing her arm as he continued down the hillside. "It'll be all right. We just have to get a move on, to stay ahead—" He jerked to a halt and swung around to face Mara again. "They didn't have mounts, did they?"

"Huh?"

"Drobbins. Were the Prudens riding drobbins?"

"Why? 'Fraid I would've stunned them too?" Mara rejoined with a glare. "If there were any, don't you think I'd have enough sense to bring them for us to ride?"

Luke drew a long, exasperated breath. "I just meant if they're on foot also, we shouldn't have much trouble outpacing them."

"You're not going to be outpacing anyone with that leg. In fact, I'd feel better if we went back and let Healer Jobilis look at it. People whose main weapons are arrows should be experienced at treating wounds from them."

"We're not going back. We're banished, remember?" Luke turned away, regretting his sharp tone. "You did just fine getting the arrow out. I can heal my leg myself."

"While you're outpacing three angry men?"

"I'll go into a healing trance in the ship, on the way to Lorrd." He resumed his brisk pace. "Don't worry, I can keep up with you."

Mara quickened her steps behind him. "You are a stubborn bantha, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one," he shot over his shoulder.

"Takes one to love one," Mara muttered under her breath.

Luke paused, leaning on his makeshift crutch. "I'm sorry, Mara." Regret filled his face. "I don't like arguing with you. Not like this."

"I know you don't, Luke," the red-head replied softly. She reached out and took his free hand, and the only sound for the next hour was the sloshing of their black flight boots through the slushy patches of snow.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As Mara pushed a wet branch aside, she reflected on the last words Luke had spoken. Deep in her heart, she felt certain that Luke was only being polite when he'd told her a few days ago that he enjoyed their 'differences of opinion.' The two of them were as contrary as Tatooine and Hoth. But too different to make a marriage work? No, Mara told herself. She firmly believed they could overcome the disparities in their personalities. And Luke felt the same way. Didn't he? She glanced sideways at his profile, but he didn't turn her way. Well, Mara had never shied away from being blunt.

"Do you think we made a mistake, Luke? Getting married so quickly?"

Luke gave her a quick, blank stare, then looked ahead once more. "I think we should just concentrate on getting off this planet."

He couldn't have wounded her more if he had plunged his lightsaber into her heart._ He's sorry he married me. He's sorry ... _The thought reverberated in Mara's mind like a vibroblade, piercing her soul over and over. _If you weren't prepared to hear the answer, you shouldn't have asked the question._ Hadn't Luke said that very same sentiment to her just before they started on this mission? But he hadn't really given her an answer, had he? He had dodged the question, which for Luke meant only one thing – he knew an honest answer would only hurt her.

Mara could feel Luke's hand still loosely clasping hers, as if symbolizing the tentative hold they had on their happiness. _How had she expected him to answer? With his usual conciliatory assurance that everything was perfect? Was his optimism rubbing off on her that much? _Mara tried to put things into a rational perspective. Luke was constantly being put in a position to overlook her faults, to push aside his morals when they conflicted with her lack thereof. _Let's face it,_ Mara thought. _I represent everything he's been taught to abhor._

―――――

It was all Luke could do to keep one foot limping along in front of the other. He welcomed the throbbing pain in his leg; it almost distracted him from the dull ache in his heart. _She was sorry they'd married?_ _What thoughts had been running through her mind to induce her to even ask him such a question? Had he really snapped at her that harshly? They'd argued numerous times before, why was this time ...?_ Luke concentrated on the feel of Mara's soft gloveless hand in his. _Because this was their first fight since they'd been married. Their relationship was supposed to be different now, somehow magically changed, improved. But they were still the same people. He was still a Jedi; she was still a former assassin. Deep down, did she resent all his righteous preaching?_

So engrossed were the newlyweds in their mutual despondency that darkness had already claimed the forested countryside before either of them noticed.

"Guess we can stop for the night," Mara mumbled, though she was reluctant to let go of his hand even to shrug off her packs.

"We can take a break," Luke countered, "but I think we should keep going through the night."

"You need to rest your leg." Mara took care not to raise her voice. "Even if the Prudens are awake by now, surely they'll wait until morning to continue after us. Or maybe they'll give up and go home."

"We can't take that chance." Finding a fairly dry patch of ground to drop his gear, Luke finally looked Mara squarely in the eye. "Mara, we need to talk."

She nodded, her heart clenching tightly as he led her to a seat on a fallen log. _He's going to say we're wrong for each other ... He wants an annulment ... He—_

Luke rubbed his face with his hands momentarily, then began speaking in a rush, his azure gaze beseeching her for forgiveness. "I can change, Mara. Please don't leave me. I love you. I won't lecture you anymore. I won't nag you about becoming a Jedi. If you want, I'll even ... give up ... being a Jed—"

"Luke, Luke!" Barely daring to hope that her anxiety had been for naught, Mara shook his arm forcefully, putting a sudden halt to his babbling. "I don't want to leave you; I won't ever leave you. I love you, too. But I thought ... I thought you regretted marrying me."

"No! Why would you think that?"

"You didn't deny it, when I asked you."

"I thought you only asked because _you_ were sorry we married." Luke's wide-eyed expression melted into one of relief. "Stang, Mara, don't scare me like that."

A glimmer of amusement tugged at the corners of Mara's mouth. "I didn't think a Jedi knew fear."

"This one did." Grinning foolishly, Luke pulled his wife close for a tender, comforting kiss. "How can two Force-strong people," he began with a chuckle after finally pulling back, "with such a strong bond, be so blockheaded as to what nonsense the other is imagining."

"Maybe this is what love does to a person – makes you addle-brained," Mara replied, laughing. "Or maybe we're both just too good at shielding. But never again," she continued, turning serious. "No secrets, no barriers, no conjuring up groundless speculations."

"Sounds like a plan." Luke flashed her his most disarming, unpretentious smile. "I love you, Mara Skywalker."

"And I love you, Luke Skywalker." She raised a finger, however, in a gesture of admonishment. "But I don't ever want to hear you so much as mention giving up being a Jedi, even for me." Mara took his hands in her own, gently caressing them. "Luke, you are brave, and kind, and honorable to a fault. These are just some of the things I love about you. These are the traits that make you a Jedi." She paused as she reflected on her own words. _These are the traits that I want to embody. Yet I'm constantly denying that I want to be a Jedi. Maybe I'm the one that needs to shake off fear – a fear of commitment._

Mara took a deep breath, then held Luke's attention with her penetrating gaze. "Luke, teach me to be a Jedi. Teach me your skills; train me how to defend others, how to have compassion and mercy."

"Mara, sweetheart, there may be some Force techniques I can help you practice, but you already possess the qualities of a Jedi. You only need to push aside your reluctance to show them."

"All right." She sighed and rose from her bark-covered seat. "I'll try."

"Tsk, tsk, my dear." Luke shook his head. "Lesson number one – do or—"

"— do not," Mara finished. "Promise me you won't start talking backwards. I've heard enough 'Master Yoda' stories from you to fill the Great Library on Ossus."

"Yes, ma'am." Leaning heavily on his crutch, Luke stood and attempted a sweeping bow, but his flushed face was sufficient to startle Mara into action.

"Rest. Now. No arguments." Mara immediately began spreading one of their survival blankets atop a patch of evergreen branches.

Luke started to protest, but one look at his wife's determined expression changed his mind. "Wake me in a half hour," he told her as he sank down onto the cover.

"That's not long enough," she objected.

"A half hour," he repeated, closing his eyes. "Apprentices must obey their masters."

"You!" She would have kicked him if he hadn't been injured already. "I'd better see you entering a healing trance, right now!"

"For a half hour?" Luke muttered, his eyes still shut. "Wouldn't do much good."

"Sleep then, while I check your dressing."

The bridegroom opened one eye as he felt his wife unzipping his flightsuit and running her hands over his bandage. "Sleep? With you pawing my thigh? Sleep is not the state you're inducing me into."

"Mind out of the gutter, Jedi." Satisfied that he hadn't resumed bleeding, Mara carefully rewrapped the wound.

"Hey, I'm on my honeymoon." Luke relaxed back against the ground, one arm casually resting across his face.

"You'd better keep your day job of fighting darksiders and saving the downtrodden," Mara said with a snort. "I don't think you'd make it as a honeymoon coordinator." She settled down into a cross-legged position, cradling Luke's head in her lap. With her lightsaber clutched in one hand and her hold-out blaster, still set on stun, balanced on her knee, Mara gently stroked her husband's silky hair.

"Wake me when the bounty hunters and mawrats get here," he mumbled as he drifted toward slumber.

"Does bring back memories, doesn't it?" she answered softly, recalling the rest breaks they'd each secretly relished during their escape from the Empire. In the shadows of twilight Mara studied his already sleeping face – young, innocent, deceptively carefree. Faint wampa scars were the only tell-tale indication of the trials he'd been through.

Mara never imagined it could feel so wonderful to belong to – no, belong _with_ – another being. Her emerald eyes flickered upward as a nocturnal bird screeched in the distance. "'Night, my love. Sweet dreams."

* * *

**See, I could've left it another cliffhanger at the point when they each thought the other regretted getting married. Aren't I considerate? ;)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks for the replies, and a belated welcome to mowat. Hope this chapter comes close enough to granting your request. This post should answer a lot of everyone's questions, and some will be answered in the next chapter, which is the last one for Book Two. I should have it up either Monday or Tuesday. **

**Book Three will take place almost entirely on the planet Lorrd, and you'll see more of the rest of the gang, too. I'll probably start posting it toward the end of the week.**

**It's time we got back to a little bit of mush, don't you think?**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Luke shivered slightly, gripping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. It was several minutes before his sleepy mind wondered when he'd acquired the warm covering. Lifting his head and rubbing his eyes, his focus shifted to the shadowy figure a few meters away.

"Mara?"

"Ah, good. I was just about to wake you."

"That didn't feel like only a half hour nap." Luke eased to a sitting position, wincing as stiffness and a dull ache radiated out from his left leg.

"It's still the middle of the night," Mara said with a shrug, as if that fact negated his directive on how long to let him sleep.

"Mara ..."

"You needed the sleep," she said. "You'll be able to travel much faster now that you've had some rest."

Luke shook the leaves and dirt off the blankets and began folding them into compact squares. "I could have gone into a healing trance if I'd known you were going to ignore my request," he grumbled.

"If you'd known I was going to ignore you, you wouldn't have lain down at all," Mara rejoined. "Just admit I was justified and we can be on our way." With a slight quirk of her eyebrow, she held out his makeshift crutch.

"All right," Luke muttered reluctantly, positioning the support under his arm. "Maybe we _can_ make better time now. But we still need to hurry." He looked back in the direction of the village. "No sign of the Prudens, huh?"

"Not a peep," she assured him as she hoisted her gear onto her back. "Good thing, too. We're like sitting mynocks in these blasted flightsuits."

"How was I to know that you'd have boyfriends after us?"

"Boyfr— Aughh!" Mara's indignation turned to amusement as she observed Luke's struggle to keep from laughing. "Very funny, farmboy."

"Just because they're out of range of our senses doesn't mean they've given up," he pointed out, making a valiant effort to take their pursuers seriously.

"I know, I know."

Her weapons once more in their proper places, Mara pulled on her heavy gloves. As welcome as the warm hand coverings were, she hadn't wanted to risk their cumbersomeness taking the edge off her efficiency if trouble had shown up while Luke was asleep. With both of them now alert and with the cold night air having a biting sting to it, Mara felt she could afford the risk. Frozen fingers wouldn't be very efficient either. She glanced to the side, where Luke's ungloved right hand rested lightly on his lightsaber, and smiled to herself in satisfaction. It was his turn to take point duty anyway, she decided.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mara and Luke continued their trek into the next evening, pausing only for brief rest breaks. Luke was eventually able to shift his crutch's usage to that of a walking stick. True to his earlier assertion, he obliterated their tell-tale footprints in the snow behind them. But neither of them voiced aloud the verity that his actions were no guarantee of their eluding any followers.

As the weary pair passed a stone outcropping, Luke paused, looking back over his shoulder at the natural formation.

"Hmmm ..." He retraced his steps and bent to gaze beneath the overhang. "I thought so."

"What are you gawking at?" Mara mumbled, stifling a yawn.

Luke straightened up, a crooked grin lighting up his features. "You don't recognize the luxury suite I brought you to after your little ... uh, mishap?"

Mara pulled aside a clump of protruding branches and peered into the dark hole. "You could be right." She glanced up at him. "Break time?"

"Sure." Luke pulled out a glowrod and waved his wife inside. Shining the light around, he surveyed the bare cavity. True to their orderly natures, not a shred of evidence remained of their previous visit, but there was no doubt in either of their minds that this was the same small cave.

Mara wasted no time spreading a blanket out on the hard ground. "Smoked meat and narberry bread sound all right?" she asked, pulling cloth-wrapped packages out of the half-full rucksack of provisions.

"Uh-huh," Luke murmured as he endeavored to wedge his glowrod into a jagged fissure in one wall. Sinking down next to Mara, he gratefully accepted the small slabs of supper she held out. "I'll say one thing," he mumbled, chewing slowly on the heavily seasoned jerky. "The food on this planet sure beats anything in the mess hall." He bit off a corner of blue-tinted bread. "You gonna remember how to cook any of this?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Mara admonished, nudging his foot playfully. "And I doubt we'd find too many rishhares hopping through the streets of Coruscant, or narberries growing on roof-top gardens."

"Other things could be substituted," he returned, washing his portions down with a swig of cold spring water. "That's probably what the Prudens wanted you for – a cook and a housemaid."

"It would take more than those three ruffians to domesticate me," she growled, getting up to retrieve some makeshift napkins. "The entire Imperial and Rebel fleets put together couldn't make me do anything that I didn't want to."

"And here I thought I could handle you all by myself!" Luke instantly knew he had said the wrong thing as Mara loomed over him, arms crossed.

"'Handle' me?"

"Uhh ... take care of you?"

No better. Mara's foot began to tap impatiently.

"Adore you? Worship you? Grovel at your feet?"

Mara called on all her training to retain her dangerous expression as Luke continued to blink at her with his penitent blue gaze.

"Love you?" he whispered.

"Ahh, there is hope." She knelt back down, leaning over to give him a kiss. "Those worshiping and groveling ideas don't sound bad, either."

"I'll keep them in mind," he returned dryly, refilling her collapsible plasteel cup from their canteen. He helped himself to more of the cool, refreshing liquid, then raised his cup in a toast. "Here's to us. May our lives be ever filled with the joy of each other's love, the satisfaction of helping others in every way possible, and the knowledge and skill to restore the Jedi Order."

"Pretty eloquent for a moisture farmer," Mara complimented, clinking her cup against his. "Though I know you were dying to add 'adventure and excitement' to the list."

"A Jedi craves not those things," Luke replied solemnly.

"Right. Tell me another fable." Mara helped Luke rewrap their leftovers, then began to pick up the blanket they'd been sitting on. Luke's hand shot out to stay her motion, however.

"No, leave it."

"Shouldn't we be going?"

"I think we can afford a short nap." He softly stroked her cheek, then brushed a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

"I thought we were in a hurry," Mara protested weakly, even as she followed his lead in sinking back down to the blanket. "It took me over eighteen hours to get this far from the ship. Surely it took you nearly as long."

"No, not really." He gave an embarrassed little smile. "But I ran the whole way."

"Ran?"

Luke shrugged self-consciously. "You were hurt."

Mara stared at him in unabashed admiration. He never ceased to amaze her; he actually ran more than thirty kilometers because he thought she was in danger. "Well, I don't feel like running to that Sith-forsaken B-wing, so we'll go with my estimate. We would make it back by lunchtime tomorrow if we got going now."

"So we'll get there two hours after lunch." Luke scooted closer to his wife.

"I'll take first watch." Mara had the distinct feeling the only watching Luke'd be doing would be to watch her.

"I think it would be safe for us to sleep together." He gently tugged her to a reclining position. "Don't you?"

"Together? Uhh ..." There was no mistaking the desire burning in her husband's blue-eyed gaze. "Are you sure that's a good idea? The Prudens—"

"Will have to get their own girl," he finished. Lying on his side and facing Mara, Luke let his fingers trail across the front of her rough flightsuit, slowly pulling the front fastener open.

"Luke ..."

"Hmm?"

"It's the dead of winter, and we don't have any fuel for the heaters."

He paused and held one hand out above his head. A spare blanket lying atop one of the packs flew into his grasp. "We'll stay warm."

"You actually think we should ... right here, on the—"

Luke interrupted her with a quick kiss. "Mara, I ..."

"I know, I know. You're on your honeymoon." Mara leaned over and pushed Luke down by the shoulders onto his back, then crawled on top of him. "So am I, farmboy. So am I ..."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When the cold chill of a blade against her throat woke Mara Skywalker, her first thought was of Luke. But she didn't have to consciously reach out to feel his warm presence next to her. Her subsequent thoughts were annoyance that they could be so careless, and relief that they had put their clothes back on. Squinting awake, Mara made out a burly form outlined against a ray of sunlight streaming in through the mouth of the small cave.

_Hold on ... sunlight?_ Mara grimaced to herself. Blast it, they'd overslept, and it could very well be their downfall.

"Don't ye be movin'." The owner of the harsh voice next to Mara's ear crouched behind her, wielding the razor-sharp hunting knife.

Mara paid no heed to the man's gruff order; she twisted her head around enough to spear her attacker with a venomous glare. "Odus Pruden – what a surprise."

"You're all making a big mistake."

She shifted her attention to her husband as his tranquil voice filled the small cave. The third intruder, Odus' brother Eli, stood over Luke's prone body, an arrow in his drawn bow nudging the Jedi's chest.

Luke's warning was met with a round of contemptuous guffaws from the trio of attackers.

"The only mistake we made was not killin' ye dead two days ago," Eli Pruden retorted. He pulled his bowstring more taut, daring Luke to move. "I'll not be missin' this time."

Mara's eyes darted across the gloomy space. _Now where ...?_

"Lookin' fer this?" Tors Pruden tightly gripped Mara's blaster in his massive paw. "Ye'll not be castin' a sleepin' spell on us agin," he growled, awkwardly waving the weapon back and forth.

"We could cast a spell on her," Eli suggested. "Make it a heap easier to tote her back."

"You're not toting me anywhere," Mara returned in a low, controlled voice as she tried to remember if she'd left the blaster set on stun or kill. Her eyes continued sweeping around the cave. _Lightsabers__ ... Where in blazes were their lightsabers?_ (Luke! Are you just going to lie there?)

(Patience, Mara.)

Mara ignored the infuriatingly calm voice echoing in her mind. Patience was what one employed when stalking a target or waiting for a restaurant droid to bring your order. Action was needed now, before one of them ended up dead.

(Reach out with the Force, Mara.)

(To strangle them?)

Luke's sigh of exasperation came across both mentally and vocally. (Extend your senses outside the cave, Mara,) he continued, not flinching a bit as the arrow poked harder against his flightsuit. (We'll soon have more company.)

"Git up, lass." Odus yanked on Mara's arm, jerking her to her feet roughly. He jabbed the knifepoint against her ribcage. "No witch tricks, or Eli there might be losin' his grip real quick."

"Thought that was already your plan," Mara said, her attention divided between trying to pinpoint what Luke was sensing, and trying to stall for time. She probably could disable her own assailant before he could plunge his blade into her side, Mara thought to herself. But before Eli's itchy fingers released the deadly arrow, or cousin Tors began experimenting with her blaster? Mara wasn't sure, especially when Luke seemed determined to play the passive victim. And uncertainty bred failure.

"Ye think we be heartless?" Tors rebuked. "Killin' a man in front o' his woman?"

"Didn't stop you from shooting at him earlier," Mara returned.

(Are you stalling them or encouraging them, sweetheart?)

Mara glanced down to meet Luke's upraised eyebrow. (You seem to have cornered the market on stalling.)

Luke decided he'd better give Mara a brief synopsis of his plan, such as it was, before she launched into her own brand of retaliation.

(Go outside with Odus and Tors. I'll put Eli out of commission, then join you.)

(And the purpose of this brainstorm is?)

(Less chance of anyone getting hurt if we're out in the open.)

Mara growled in annoyance as Tors Pruden tightly tied her outstretched wrists with a rough piece of cord. "Hey, take it easy!" She gave Luke a final scowl before the brazen ruffians began pushing her outside. (There are only two people in this cave whose health I'm concerned about. Your scheme had better work if you hope to be one of them.)

After Mara's forced exit, Luke looked up at his lone remaining adversary. Eli Pruden grinned lecherously above him in anticipation of an easy kill. The Jedi's carefully thought-out plan of putting the man into a sleeping trance was suddenly shattered as blood-thirsty, animalistic hunger assaulted his senses, chilling him to the core. The danger he felt was almost immediately accompanied by a cacophony of feral growls, snarls, and screams.

Wild animals! _And Mara's hands were bound ... _

Faster than the woodsman could blink, Eli's victim became his attacker.

Luke swept the bow and arrow aside with an effortless Force shove, the wooden weapons snapping as they struck the cave's rock wall. He leapt up, twisting his body midair and pinning Pruden to the ground in one fluid movement.

"Sorry, no time for finesse." Drawing back his arm, Luke slugged the struggling man across the temple, knocking him unconscious. Rushing to the cave entrance, he absorbed the grim scene before him in a blink of an eye.

The Prudens were struggling under attack from what must be feralines, Luke decided, recognizing the sleek-pelted creatures from descriptions he'd been told. He could barely make out Mara on the far side of the clearing, but her sense in the Force was strong and resolute. It was clear that the savage, powerfully built beasts had their human victims outnumbered nearly four to one. Sharrets were scattering into the forest, yelping in terror, while the high-pitched squeals of drobbins added to the horrific bedlam.

It was all Luke could do to restrain himself from jumping into the fray barehanded. If only he had his lightsaber ...

_A Jedi and his lightsaber, a special connection they have._

Luke blinked as Yoda's voice filtered through his head, and a sense of calm wormed its way into his anxious psyche. Reaching out with his hand and sweeping his mind across the surrounding bushes, he concentrated on that mystical connection. The nearby din drowned out the rustle of leaves as not one, but two, lightsabers flew toward the waiting Jedi. He hadn't expected Mara's saber to respond to his call, even though it had been in his possession longer than the one he'd built.

Grasping a lightsaber in each hand and whirling around, Luke was a blur of motion as he made his way to his wife's side. Mara had jerked her blaster from Tors Pruden's grip and was firing with pinpoint accuracy despite having her hands still tied. Catching her attention, Luke dipped a blade as she held her wrists out, slicing through the rope. He tossed her saber toward her hilt first, the blade stilled locked on.

Slashing, slicing, skewering, the two Jedi labored to keep ahead of the pack of beasts. Hearing a desperate cry behind her, Mara spun around to see Odus Pruden nearly hidden under the bulk of an enormous feraline. She drove her blade through the animal's tough hide, then kicked the dying carcass aside with her foot. Mara winced as she saw her kidnapper's vacant stare. Odus's throat had been ripped open by the feraline's powerful jaws, and blood gushed from the jagged wound.

Knowing that the man was beyond help, Mara directed her attention back to the ongoing battle. Fearless and tenacious predators, the feralines kept attacking in a vicious frenzy. Not yet noticing his cousin's plight, Tors was hacking wildly with his long hunting knife. Confident of Mara's ability to defend herself, Luke had made his way to a pair of frightened drobbins straining against their reins. A third mount lay dead on the ground, its flesh being hungrily devoured by two of the carnivorous beasts.

"Luke, watch out!" Mara shouted, spotting one of the creatures stalking her husband from behind. She regretted letting her blaster drop when she'd reacquired her lightsaber. Her anxiety was replaced by surprise as a volley of arrows shot out from the surrounding trees, dropping the animal in its tracks. Her eyes widened even further as Hiley and Efam appeared in the clearing, shooting arrows as fast as they could from the backs of their terrified steeds. Younger and nimbler, Jaco had already dismounted and was weaving a path of destruction, a short hatchet grasped in one hand and a wide-bladed knife in the other.

With the arrival of the newcomers, the tide of the battle quickly turned in the humans' favor. Within minutes the last of the ferocious animals lay dying on the ground.

"Not that I'm ungrateful in the least," Mara panted, "but what in blazes are you three doing here?"

Stroking his drobbin's shaggy neck soothingly, Hiley slid off his mount's back with a wide grin. "We thought ye might need a bit o' rescuin', but I'm a-thinkin' ye would'a managed fine without us." He eyed the glowing blades in Luke and Mara's hands, and surveyed the carnage spread about them.

"Aye, but we was expectin' only to meet up with these two-legged varmints," Efam added, warily approaching Tors Pruden. "Where be yer kin, Tors?"

The bearded woodsman gazed glassy-eyed around him, finally noticing that he alone of his family stood in the gore-strewn clearing. "What ... Odus!" Tors rushed to his cousin's lifeless form. "No!" He half-rose, searching desperately for the last member of his group. "Eli!" His wild gaze fell accusingly on Luke. "Ye killed Eli, din't ye?"

"No, no," Luke hurried to assure the distraught man. "He's safe; he's in the cave." At Tors' disbelieving grimace, he added, "He's unconscious, but he'll be fine."

Hiley ducked into the entrance to the small cave, emerging a moment later. "Aye, Eli's inside, out colder than a snuffed-out candle."

Efam turned to the two Jedi, who had by now hooked their lightsabers to the outsides of their blood-splattered flightsuits. "Are ye unharmed? We feared this bunch was goin' after ye when Jaco's cousin saw 'em loadin' up supplies and talkin' 'bout gettin' even."

"We was hopin' to catch 'em 'fore they could get the jump on ye," Jaco added. "But it looks like the feralines bushwhacked the lot o' ye." He grimaced in Luke's direction. "So what'd we miss?"

"Not much," Luke muttered, his attention riveted on Tors Pruden. "Excuse me." Limping slightly, he made his way over to the despondent man's side.

"They surprised us as we woke this morning," Mara took up the tale. "Tors and Odus dragged me outside, while Eli stayed behind in the cave with Luke to ... to kill him." She glanced briefly at her husband as he led Tors toward the cave. "That's when the feralines appeared out of nowhere."

"The Prudens aimed to kill ye?" Hiley asked in amazement. "We never figured they'd stoop to murder."

Mara nodded numbly, not bothering to answer.

Luke and Tors soon emerged from the cave, supporting a woozy Eli between them. Jaco took Luke's place as Eli staggered toward his fallen brother.

"We'll take Eli and Tors back to Zembuhl," Efam promised. "And we'll see that they pay fer what they did."

"Don't be too harsh on them," Luke objected. "They lost a brother and cousin; that should be punishment enough." Noticeably favoring his left leg, he gestured toward the transgressors. "We'll help bury Odus before we leave."

"Nay, we can do that." Efam studied the younger man with a worried expression. "The feralines take a swipe at yer leg, lad?"

"No." Luke straightened up, affecting an appearance of well-being. "It's nothing."

Mara's pointed glare was harder to avoid. "Did you open up that wound? And don't try to lie to me again."

Luke started to protest, then shifted his gaze to the ground. "Maybe," he finally mumbled through clenched teeth.

"Ye were wounded 'fore today?" Hiley asked, joining the conversation. "Let's take a look."

"The Prudens first ambushed us two days ago," Mara explained, as Luke slumped to the ground in resignation and unzipped his suit. "They got him in the leg with an arrow."

"Aye, lad, ye are leakin'," the toolcrafter said with a smile, attempting to lighten Luke's mood. He peered closer as Mara knelt and began unwrapping her husband's blood-stained bandages. "What be that sticky goo round the cut?"

"It's a kind of medicine," Mara replied, applying a new bacta patch. "It helps the injury to heal." She wound fresh dressings around Luke's thigh, then gave him a hand up.

"It was working until just now," Luke said.

"Ye should rest a spell," Efam remarked. He bent over to scratch behind the ears of one of his own sharrets he'd brought. "Let yer leg mend 'fore walkin' on it."

"Humph. Good luck talking him into that," Mara said with a snort. "He's as stubborn as they come."

"We really can't afford to wait," Luke protested. "We have an appointment to keep, and we're behind schedule as it is."

"Then ye should borrow a pair o' drobbins fer the rest o' yer journey." Efam loomed over the smaller man, his hands on his hips. "We insist."

"But ... but ..." Luke shook his head, grasping for an excuse.

"Jaco and me, we'll ride with ye, and bring the mounts back," Hiley spoke up.

"Aye, and I'll stay here and keep an eye on Tors and Eli," Efam added.

"What if more feralines show up?"

"They be territorial," Jaco said. "There'd not be another pack anywhere near these parts."

"Ye know it be the sensible thing to do, lad," Efam stated. "I'll have no trouble handlin' those two." He nodded toward the pair of grief-stricken cousins.

Luke shot a questioning look at Mara, but she only shrugged and mouthed back 'Your call.' He shut his eyes briefly and took a steadying breath. It _was_ the sensible thing to do, as Efam said. Perhaps it was time he started being sensible.

"All right," he finally acquiesced. "We'll take you up on your offer." He glanced once more in Mara's direction. If she was surprised by his decision, she gave no indication, either outwardly or emotionally.

―――――

It didn't take long for Luke and Mara to gather their belongings and load them onto Efam's stout drobbin. As Luke tightly cinched the strap holding the last bundle, he stared across the animal's back at his wife.

"Do you think I made the right choice?"

"Do _you_ think you did?" she returned, tucking under a loose end of rope.

"Are you going to force me to psychoanalyze myself now?" he complained.

Mara only raised one red-gold eyebrow, a slight smile playing about her lips.

Luke frowned at her and leaned against the swaying animal. "They're our friends, Mara. They rode all the way out here to help us. I don't think we should just brush them off."

"I'm not disagreeing." Mara reached across and took one of his hands. "But I don't think letting Hiley and Jaco see the ship is what you're beating yourself up over." She tugged on his hand. "Is it?"

"No." Luke shook his head tiredly. "I should have sensed those feralines long before they reached us. I was aware of our friends drawing near, so why not the danger of the wild animals?"

"Maybe because Hiley and the others _are_ our friends. They were easier to recognize. Maybe the feralines weren't a threat until they caught the scent of the drobbins or sharrets. I don't know." Mara let Luke's hand drop. "Don't you think I've been asking myself why I didn't sense the feralines, or the Prudens, for that matter? I'm the one who's always bragging about my heightened sense of danger. I thought the foreboding I felt meant your 'don't get anyone hurt' plan was going to backfire."

"It was far from an unqualified success."

"Luke, Odus Pruden's death was not your fault, or my fault. Truth be told, it wasn't even his own fault. It was an accident of nature."

"That doesn't make it any easier to accept. I should have been able to prevent his death, but I didn't."

"You aren't responsible for the safety of every being in the galaxy." Mara came around the front of the drobbin and pulled Luke into a hug. "That doesn't necessarily mean I want you to change, though. I love you just the way you are."

"Lucky for me." Luke leaned down and accepted her tender kiss. "Now I guess we'd better get moving, so we can shock the socks off Hiley and Jaco."

"You've got it, Jedi." Mara smiled brightly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually going to be glad to see that bucket of bolts."

"That makes two of us, my dear."

―――――

Less than an hour later, the travelers mounted up for the last leg of their journey. Efam assured the others that he and the two Prudens would take care of burying Odus, deeming that there would be less trouble with the surviving woodsmen during the undertaking if Luke and Mara were out of sight.

"Don't ye worry now," the pub owner called, waving a farewell. "Just take care to keep outa trouble yerselves."

"Will do," Hiley replied before turning to his comrades. "All set?" At everyone's assent, the group began trotting away.

"Hear that, Skywalker?" Mara commented wryly. "Stay out of trouble."

"I think he was talking to you," Luke rejoined, leaning forward to pat the ragged mane of the drobbin he'd 'borrowed' from the Prudens. He found this animal was much more enjoyable to ride than a tauntaun. "I'm not the one that's skittish about riding."

"I can ride any animal you put under me," she shot back. "I can't help it that this one is jittery."

"You be pullin' too tightly on the leads," Jaco advised, coming up alongside her. "Give 'im a bit o' slack."

As Mara grudgingly accepted Jaco's instructions, Hiley dropped back to ride next to Luke.

"Ye know, lad," the toolcrafter began, "it hadn't escaped our notice that the direction ye and the missus are headed ain't nowhere near any body o' water, leastways fer another week's ride."

"We didn't think you'd miss that," Luke conceded. "But it won't take us long to reach our destination. If we set a steady pace, we should be there by early evening."

Hiley shot him a curious look. "What does this boat o' yers float on?"

"Well, you'll have to see it to believe it." Luke gave a little chuckle. "Actually, you probably won't believe it even _after_ you see it."

"That so?" Hiley grinned in anticipation of a phenomenal journey's end. "In that case, why we be moseyin' along this slow?" He spurred his mount to a sudden gallop. "Hee-yah!"

―――――

The quartet was approaching a small hill late in the afternoon when Luke reined his drobbin to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder at Mara, who nodded with a knowing smile.

"Just beyond this coming grove of trees there's a rocky plateau," Luke informed the two villagers. "That's our destination."

"Already?" Jaco trotted ahead, motioning to his longtime friend. "C'mon, Hiley, let's take us a look at this boat."

Mara hung back a moment, a smirk lighting up her wind-chapped face. "This should be interesting."

Luke grinned in agreement. "Right. And I for one don't want to miss their reaction." He dug his heels into the flanks of his mount. "Let's go!"

―――

Luke and Mara had barely reached the crest of the hill when they overtook the stunned figures of their friends.

"Divine One, preserve us," Hiley breathed in astonishment, his eyes wide as saucers.

Jaco couldn't even spit out that much.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks immensely to all those who have sent in such nice reviews for _Pledge_, and a special welcome to Countess Jackman. I really appreciate it!**

**To Nerca Beyul: I pronounce 'Jaco' as 'Jake-o.' Everyone else's questions should be answered in this last chapter. I'll start posting the next book by the end of the week.**

* * *

**A Journey of Discovery ****― Book Two: Pledge**

**Chapter Twenty**

Lando Calrissian swept into the Gilded Star Nightclub with his usual debonair style. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit lounge, the first patron he was able to recognize was a rather large Wookiee hunched in a too-small chair at the end of an out-of-the-way booth.

"Han! Leia!" he greeted the other occupants of the booth, huddled together in the dim corner. "Hi-ya, Chewie," he added as he signaled his drink order to a passing droid waiter and slid onto the remaining empty bench. "Fancy meeting you three here."

"Han has some bizarre notion that having a Synthian cocktail in this dive will calm my nerves." Leia shrank back further into the shadows in the hope that no one of importance would recognize her in such a seedy bar. "He and Chewie literally abducted me and Threepio as we were coming out of my office."

"Where is our favorite protocol droid?" Lando glanced around the smoky room. Colored lights strobed across the ceiling and walls in time with the blaring chords of a lusty tune.

"He's supposed to be guarding the speeder," Han said with a snort. "Though he's probably locked himself inside it, quaking in his metal boots."

"Ah." The former baron administrator reached across the table to stroke Leia's hand, ignoring Han's scowl of disapproval. "And what does a beautiful woman like you have to be nervous about?"

"Oh, it's just Luke." The princess pulled back her hands, settling them in her lap.

"When _isn't_ it about Luke?" Han drawled, stretching his arms out along the back of the bench.

Leia gave him an exasperated frown before continuing. "It's nine days past his scheduled arrival date on Lorrd, and still no one has heard from him. How can I not worry?"

"I told you we should give him his ten-day window before chasing after him," Han reiterated.

"And I don't know how you can act so unconcerned when Luke is who-knows-where with that abrasive Mara Jade."

"Ah, the incomparable Miss Jade. True, she is one icy woman." Lando leaned back, smoothing his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "How she can possibly resist my extraordinary charms is beyond me."

"She's one of a kind, all right," Han agreed.

"Still, I always get the feeling that I've seen her before. Under totally different circumstances, though." The dark-skinned gambler's brow furrowed in thought. "There's just something about her face, or maybe it's those eyes."

"She doesn't seem to have recognized you," Han pointed out. "Has she ever so much as given you the time of day?"

"Hmmm, not yet. But I am a man of eternal hope. If only I'd gotten to see her as a dancer." Lando closed his eyes in peaceful reflection. "I can just envision her in a skimpy little dancing costume." He peered across the table. "Maybe something like that snappy outfit Jabba found for you, Leia."

"Hey, now," the princess's paramour objected immediately.

"I'm not imagining Leia back in it, Han ol' buddy," Lando assured his friend. "I'm imagining Mara Jade – twirling, dipping, stretching ... I can just picture her ..." he trailed off wistfully.

Leia's face suddenly scrunched up in thought. "So can I," she whispered, causing Han's eyebrows to shoot up.

"You're ... you're imagining Mara ... in a dancing getup?" Han couldn't believe he was even voicing such an absurd suggestion.

Leia turned slowly toward him, eyes clouded in deep introspection and confusion. "I ... feel like I've seen her in such an outfit. She was different somehow ..."

Lando took up her trail of thought. "It's the hair. Her hair was different."

"Guys, her hair was different when we first met her, remember? Her and Luke were both brunettes."

"Believe me," the gambler replied, "I haven't forgotten that first meeting. But no, that's not the look I had in mind."

"Black!" Leia blurted out. "She had black hair."

Lando was nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that's it. Black hair, but those same brilliant eyes. Her skin tone was darker ..."

"And she had tattoos in ... various spots ..." Leia added self-consciously.

Chewie growled questioningly, and Han concurred. "Right." He looked at Lando and Leia. "Just what kind of spice are you two on?"

Leia swatted at him. "I _know_ I've seen her, just like we described."

"Okay, okay, I believe you." Han slumped in resignation. "So, where did you see her?"

Leia and Lando looked at each other, then spoke simultaneously. "Jabba's."

Han started to open his mouth to reply, but Chewie beat him to it.

/You saw Mara Jade at Jabba's?./

"Yeah," Lando confirmed. "We did."

Leia looked quizzically at Han, not having mastered the Wookiee tongue yet, and he translated as Chewbacca continued.

/Are you sure it was her?. /

"Didn't you see her, Chewie?" Leia asked their furry companion.

/I was taken immediately to the dungeons, remember. /

"And I couldn't see my hand in front of my face," Han put in.

"And Luke decided to play footsie with the rancor as soon as he got there," Lando added.

/There is someone else who could corroborate this assumption./

"Goldenrod ..." Han murmured. He glanced at Leia, who was already thumbing on her comlink.

"Threepio? Come inside right away; we're in the back left corner."

"Yes, mistress," came the tinny response.

As soon as the protocol droid shuffled his way to their table, Han began the interrogation. "You know Luke's friend, Mara Jade, right?"

"Yes, of course, General Solo. Miss Jade is usually ... civil ... to me. At least when Master Luke is nearby."

"All right, Goldie," Lando said. "Access those wonderful memory banks you're always bragging about and think back to when you were in Jabba's palace."

"Jabba the Hutt's? Oh my, what a dreadful place that was. Just dreadful. A veritable den of debauchery."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, do you recall anyone at Jabba's that looked like Mara?"

See-Threepio cocked his head to one side, sifting through his data banks. "Yes, General Calrissian, there was a dancer who resembled Miss Jade. But her name was Miss Arica." His golden head swiveled to each of the sentient beings before him, then he addressed his mistress. "Am I to understand that you suspect Miss Arica was in fact Miss Jade?"

"That's exactly what we suspect, Threepio," Leia answered.

"So the question is, what would Mara Jade have been doing in a slime pit like Jabba's?" Han voiced the puzzle that was running through all their minds.

"She _was_ a dancer," Lando spoke up. "Maybe she worked there, till Jabba's glorious demise, then moved up to the Imperial court."

Han and Leia exchanged glances, and the princess pursed her lips.

"No," Han answered for both of them, shaking his head. "The timing's off. By the time we got off Tatooine, Palpatine was reportedly on his way to the Death Star. I doubt he stopped on his way out to interview dancers."

"Besides," Leia added, "didn't she say she'd been at the palace for nearly two years?"

"So our question now is, what was she, really?"

/You have to ask?./ Chewbacca interjected.

"No, we don't," Han drawled slowly, and Leia didn't need a translation this time. "A dancer with some self-defense training, my foot! She was an Imp spy!"

"She was following us." Leia scooted forward, resting her elbows on the rickety plasteel table.

"But why didn't she act? Even if she didn't recognize Lando, you and Chewie were there in plain sight and I was thawed out a half day before Luke came. Why wasn't the place crawling with stormtroopers to arrest us?"

"Before ... Luke ... came," Leia mouthed hesitantly, fearfully. "She didn't act because she was waiting for him to show up."

"If I may interject," a prissy voice interrupted.

"Quiet," Han ordered gruffly, but Leia stopped him with a glare.

"Go ahead, Threepio."

"Miss Arica ... er, Miss Jade ... did inquire about Master Luke."

The heads of Han, Leia, and Lando all snapped up instantaneously, and Chewbacca let out a threatening growl.

"You _talked _to her?" Han practically shouted.

"Why, yes." Threepio took a step backward. "She was rather friendly, actually. She asked about Master Luke's holomessage. I assured her that it had to be a mistake, that Master Luke would never abandon Artoo and me in that awful place. She then asked if I believed that Master Luke would in fact be coming to rescue me."

Han frustratedly wiped his face with one hand.

"She wanted to make sure Luke was coming," Leia murmured, almost to herself.

"The Emperor and Vader wanted Luke more than all the rest of us combined," Han agreed.

"And by the time Luke did appear, things moved so quickly that she didn't have a chance to bring in her backup," Lando reasoned.

/But what about her now?./ Chewbacca asked no one in particular.

"Good question." Han looked at Leia as she touched his arm. "Chewie wants to know, if she was an Imperial spy then, what is she now?"

"She could have truly defected, after the Emperor died."

"That's awfully optimistic," he replied. "How often do we get that lucky?"

The diminutive woman bit her lip worriedly. "But consider the consequences of the other choice."

"She's ensconced herself into the heart of the Alliance," Han answered, slamming a closed fist down. "Hell, she didn't even have to convince anyone she was a dancer. She had Luke to do that for her."

"She's been stringing him along this whole time, playing him for a fool," Lando put in.

Han nodded. "Honing her Force skills with the galaxy's only Jedi Knight; prying who knows how many government secrets out of him." He looked at the others in frustration. "We all know how trusting Luke is. He meets a beautiful woman who pays some attention to him and helps him escape, and who shares that Force mumbo-jumbo with him ..."

"She biding her time until she can lure him right into the hands of what's left of the Empire," Lando commented.

"Or until she's trained enough to be able to overpower him," Han continued.

"And ... kill him." Leia's eyes grew wide. "Luke has no idea who she truly is. This whole Lorrd trip could be a trap, and he's flying right into it. The directive that only Force-strong individuals could come, the mysterious ship trouble ..." She gripped Han's arm tightly. "We have to go after him. Now, Han. There's not a moment to lose."

The former smuggler patted her hand in comfort. "We will. But it'll take awhile to prep the _Falcon_." He gave Leia an encouraging smile. "We'll leave as soon as we can."

"And I'm coming, too," Lando said. "No gorgeous female is going to pull the banthawool over Lando Calrissian's eyes and get away with it."

Chewie also rumbled his declaration of assistance.

"But what if—" Leia couldn't bring herself to say aloud the possibility that they could already be too late.

"He's not on Lorrd yet," Han tried to explain. "If she's gonna make a move against him, she either already has ..." He hurried on at the sight of Leia's choked expression. "Or she's waiting until they're established on Lorrd." He hugged his lover tightly. "Besides, when we first heard about his message, didn't you feel that he was all right? Do you still have the same feeling?"

Leia nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so. But he's so far away, I'm not really sure."

"We'll be there in two days tops," Han pledged. "Maybe even sooner. Remember, I've got the—"

"Fasted hunk of junk in the galaxy," three voices finished for him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hiley and Jaco stood transfixed, gaping in awe at the metal monstrosity sitting before them. Even their drobbins pawed the ground nervously and snorted, their nostrils flaring wide in fright.

Luke and Mara urged their own mounts forward, talking soothingly to the reluctant animals. Luke dismounted and, handing the reins to Mara, walked back to his stupefied friends.

"There's nothing to be frightened of, really," he assured them. "It's just a form of transportation for us."

"No way that be a boat. It'd sink like a rock, fer sure," Hiley muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the strange contrivance. "But there be no wheels or runners. How does it go?"

"Hmmm ..." Luke cast a glance at Jaco, who had yet to utter a word. "Why don't we take a closer look, and I'll explain as much as I can." He stepped back a pace, waiting while the two villagers slid off their drobbins and tied the animals to nearby trees.

Mara was already hauling their belongings toward the B-wing's storage hold when the others approached. One hand resting lightly on her hip, she held out the coveted stabilizer rod to Luke. "You gonna do the honors, or do you want me to give it a shot?"

Luke took the metal piece from her without hesitation. "I'll put it in. Just give me a moment." Once more faced with how much to reveal, he turned to his friends. "You're right, Hiley. This isn't a boat or a wagon or a sleigh. We call it a ship, but it doesn't travel on water."

"If it ...," Jaco began, finding his tongue, "if it travels by neither sea nor land, then ... how ...?"

"We journey by air," Luke said simply, not feeling it necessary to explain about the vacuum of space.

"Like a bird?" Hiley asked. Both his and Jaco's gazes went from the ship to the sky and back again to the ship.

"In a way, yes."

"That be impossible." Jaco's skeptical frown emphasized his words.

Luke extended his hand and the stabilizer rod rose into the air, floating of its own accord. "This is impossible, and yet it is happening."

Hiley squinted, trying to unravel the mystery. "So ye float yer ... ship ... in the air with yer magic?"

Luke bit his lip, ignoring Mara's amused chuckle in the background. "Bad example, I guess. No, not with magic. Not my kind of magic, at any rate." His hand closed back around the rod. "The ship has an engine to power it." He smiled at the quizzical looks he received. "Come," he said, motioning them forward.

His natural curiosity toward anything mechanical overcoming any fear of the unknown, Hiley quickly followed Luke toward the baffling vehicle. He glanced back at his reluctant companion. "Come along, Jaco, me friend. It won't bite ye." He looked back at Luke. "Will it?"

Luke laughed and shook his head. "No."

Mara watched with detached interest as Luke proceeded to explain, in the simplest layman's terms he could think of, the workings of the immense Quadex Kyromaster engine. The villagers were listening with the same rapt attention that Mara had witnessed numerous times in Rogue Squadron's maintenance bay. Men and their machines, she thought to herself. Some things never change, no matter where one lands in the galaxy.

Moving to an access hatch in the cockpit section of the fighter, Luke began to install the new stabilizer component. Hiley and Jaco were quick to lend a hand, following Luke's directions with enthusiasm and diligence.

―――

Mara, meanwhile, busied herself with digging through the luggage they had left behind in the ship. She wasn't about to travel the rest of the way to Lorrd in the same clothes she'd been wearing for over two days, and Force knew Luke needed new attire. She paused, though, as she pulled his satchel forward and popped it open. These were his personal belongings – his carefully folded black Jedi uniform, his underclothes, his toiletries. Luke was her husband now; there was no reason to feel invasive about rummaging through his possessions. So why did she?

Quickly selecting a thin one-piece jumpsuit and appropriate undergarments, Mara snapped the case shut. She smiled, wondering briefly if they would be packing their clothes together for their next trip. Just one of the things that would be changing in their lives, things that she and Luke would both have to get used to – going home to the same apartment, sharing the same bedchamber, traveling in the same ship to the same places, _finding_ a decent-sized ship that they could afford. Sure, they'd had a taste of some of these experiences while in Zembuhl. But knowing that she and Luke would be together forever brought a sense of peace to Mara's heart. She was a wife now. Someday she would be a Jedi Knight. Mara fixed her gaze on Luke as he closed the hatch to the gyro-stabilization system. Someday, she would be known as the wife of a Jedi Master.

―――

"Well, lad, 'tis an amazin' contraption ye've got here, to be sure," Hiley complimented as the men finished the repair work. "But I still canno' be believin' it'll rise into the air like a scudbird."

"Aye," Jaco said. "I can hardly wait to see yer ship floatin' through the sky." He looked toward the foothills of the nearby mountain range. "Do ye have to go further than the Magnes Mountains to reach Corey-sant?"

"Much, much further," Luke answered with a laugh.

"So where be yer Corey-sant?" Hiley inquired.

Luke laid the servodriver he'd been holding into a tool tray. Hands on his hips, he looked up into the dusky heavens. "You can't see it from here; the distance is too great. But it would be just about ..." he pointed to an invisible spot in the wintry sky, "there."

Hiley and Jaco followed the direction he indicated with unbelieving stares.

"Ye're goin' ... there?" Jaco murmured, his eyes glued upward.

"No, we're not."

All three men shifted their attention as Mara joined in the conversation.

"First, we're detouring to about ... there." Mara's arm extended upward at a sixty degree angle to where Luke's hand had pointed.

"That settles it." Luke came forward and wrapped one arm around Mara's waist. "From now on, you're in charge of navigation."

"I accept. But before climbing into a cockpit with me, you need to climb into some fresh, and spaceworthy, clothes." She held out a bundle of clothing, including a spare flightsuit she'd found in the storage hold.

Luke stepped back a pace, finally recognizing that Mara had already changed into a new flightsuit. "Oh, right." He glanced down at his torn and dirty garments and smiled sheepishly. "If you'll excuse me, I'll ... uh ..." He looked at Mara, wondering where she'd changed without any of them noticing.

"Behind any tree, Skywalker."

Luke grinned as he ambled behind the nearest grove of evergreens. Left alone with the two amiable villagers, Mara fielded their continuous barrage of questions as best she could – _"No, this is definitely NOT typical of the kind of ship our people travel in." "Yes, there are ships that can hold more than two people." "Yes, there are ships big enough that people can live in them." _Mara refrained from pointing out that there existed ships so big that a hundred villages the size of Zembuhl could fit into them.

Within minutes Luke returned, looking and feeling clean and refreshed. He assured Mara that his wound had not reopened and his bandages did not need changing. After storing the last of their gear into the B-wing, Luke and Mara agreed it was time for their departure. For the second time in two days, therefore, they said goodbye to their new friends.

―――――

Mara was the first to clamber into the double cockpit, her eyes routinely scanning the controls as she slid into her seat. Luke soon followed, after giving Hiley and Jaco final handshakes and directions on how far back to stand during liftoff. They both donned their helmets as the canopy sealed with a barely audible hiss.

"I think they were actually anxious to see us go," Luke commented as he began the start-up sequence.

"Really?"

"Yeah. The anticipation of seeing this 'metal contraption' sail through the air seemed to outweigh any pangs of regret over our departure."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"Who, me?" Luke returned with a laugh.

Despite its cumbersome appearance, the B-wing rose gracefully on its repulsers, the main landing strut folding back into its slot. Luke let a sigh of relief escape as the large primary wing swung down and locked into place, confirming that his repair job had been successful. Giving a final wave to the two tiny figures below them on the ground, they angled their ascent toward the distant clouds.

"Did Hiley and Jaco understand anything you were telling them about the B-wing's operation?" Mara asked as they soared into the upper atmosphere.

"Hmm ... vaguely. From the mechanical work I saw in Hiley's shop, I believe their generation isn't far from devising some kind of steam-powered engine."

"Do you think they'll tell everyone about our ship?"

"I got the impression they were going to discuss that very question on their way back," Luke replied. "It may depend on whether Efam and the Prudens witnessed our take-off. I left the running lights off, and there's a chance they may not have heard the thrusters."

"Always the optimist." Mara's light chuckle filled the cramped cockpit. "Got an ETA for Lorrd?"

"Is that datapad on the mission up there?" Luke returned her question with one of his own. Mara tossed the small device over her shoulder, and Luke began scrolling through the screens. "Looks like we should arrive around seventeen-hundred on the second day of Lorrd's standard week, which will be the tenth day since I sent them the message."

"That soon? What kind of shortcut are you planning?"

"You're the navigator, remember?" Luke settled lower into his padded seat. "And the pilot."

"What?" Mara made a futile attempt to turn around and look at him. "I can't pilot from up here. The controls are disabled."

"Not anymore. I hooked them back up when I fixed the hyperdrive."

Mara made a renewed study of her instruments. He'd actually defied the New Republic military to allow her control of the ship, and had done so before their relationship had taken the drastic turn that it did.

"I trust you," he answered her unspoken question. "The ship's log has a record of our flight in through the nebula. You can program up to two jumps at a time in the navicomputer. All you have to do is backtrack our way out. Four or five microjumps should get us back to the asteroid field."

"But ..." Mara began scrolling through the log, her mind already calculating their route.

"I'm going into a healing trance," Luke murmured, closing his eyes. "Wake me when we're in orbit above Lorrd."

"You're going to sleep all the way to Lorrd?"

"You've been nagging me to go into a trance since I got shot."

"But, Luke ..." Mara repeated.

"You can handle things," he assured her. "The microjumps will keep you busy, then you can meditate during the last leg."

"Yes, Master." Only a hint of sarcasm was evident in Mara's tone.

"Goodnight, my beautiful apprentice." He sent a warm sensation of love through the Force, which was quickly reciprocated.

"Sleep well, Master."

Luke gave a small snort of satisfaction, then fell silent. Mara could sense him immersing himself deep into the Force, his breathing low and steady.

Quickly and carefully familiarizing herself with the B-wing's controls, Mara pulled back on the hyperdrive lever for their first short hop. "Hold on to your seat, my love," she called quietly over her shoulder. "Next stop, the planet Lorrd."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Leia Organa was fit to be tied. She'd spent all afternoon in the New Republic administrative hanger, current berth of the _Millennium Falcon_. Han, along with Chewbacca, was crouched under the belly of his beloved ship, while Lando was relaying instrument readings via comlink from the cockpit. Leia didn't think the string of complaints, excuses, and curses flowing between the two locations would ever end.

"Are you three boneheads _ever_ going to finish!"

Han squatted down and peered out from under the ship. His gaze fell on a pair of diminutive fists planted on slim hips and a tiny booted foot impatiently tapping the ferrocrete floor.

Leia ducked low enough to glare at the lagging repairmen. "Well? We should have been halfway to Lorrd by now."

"Keep your tiara on, your worship. I just have to tighten down this one ... last ... bolt. Ah-ha." Leaving Chewie to reattach the outer hull plating, Han joined his lady near the boarding ramp. "See, Leia. We'll be on our way before you know it."

"And meanwhile Luke could be—"

"Luke's a big boy. Maybe we should let him get out of trouble on his own for once."

"Han!" Leia's big brown eyes flashed with irritation.

"Get on board, hon." Han wrapped one grease-stained arm around the princess's shoulders. "We got us a Jedi to rescue."

―――

Less than an hour later, the _Falcon_ was navigating its way into Coruscant's upper atmosphere.

"How long—?" Leia began, peering over Han's shoulder at his cockpit readings.

"We'll be landing on Lorrd in thirty-four hours," Lando supplied, sitting beside her in the seldom-used navigator's chair.

"Luke may already be there by then." Leia bit her lower lip nervously. That Jade woman could be plying all sorts of subversive atrocities on her brother.

"Probably will." Han gave her a helpless shrug. "That'll have us making planetfall eleven days after he sent his message."

"Han, I can't go thirty-four hours without knowing if he's even made it."

Chewie uttered a low rumble.

"Right." Han glanced behind him. "We'll have to come out of hyperspace about halfway there to make a course correction around an asteroid field. You can comm the Lorrdian authorities then, or even try comming Luke directly if you want."

"All right." Somewhat mollified, Leia sat back, making sure her seat harness was secure.

"Hold on to your seats, everyone," Han called out as he watched the countdown, then pulled back on the hyperdrive lever. The stars elongated into strings of diamonds as the ship surged forward. "Next stop, the planet Lorrd."

* * *

**Raise your hand if you think Han and Leia may be right about Mara Jade. Luke _is _way too trusting, you know.**

**TO BE CONCLUDED IN "A JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY – BOOK THREE: PRISM"**

**See you all in Lorrd!**


End file.
